Perfect Storm
by Clara Drosselmeyer
Summary: Two years after the events of Frozen. When a terrifying creature attacks Arendelle, Elsa must solve the mystery of its origins in order to save her kingdom. Much to her chagrin, the only person who can take her to the answers she needs is her worst enemy, Hans. The journey they will undertake is destined to change their feelings in ways they could never expect. Helsa!
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Queen Elsa wasn't sure if she was supposed to crave freezing cold winter days or dread them, but truth be told it was a little bit of both. The people of Arendelle had by and large grown to trust that their queen would never force a winter on them again. They'd stopped giving Elsa wary looks on frosty mornings when she ventured into town to participate in charitable events, cut ribbons for grand openings, or accompany Anna as she visited the many friends she had made since the palace gates had opened at last.

Although Elsa identified her own fiercely independent personality with the irrefutable icy power of winter, and was never bothered by its freezing blasts, there was something she'd come to appreciate about the warm weather. Spring, summer and fall were gentle seasons, never evoking memories of traumatic events in her life. Still, on a cold day, there was a feeling of familiarity in the biting air, the knowledge that somehow it understood her better than most people did, and vice versa.

Anna, freshly outfitted in a sublimely suitable pine green cloak and muff, stroked the soft plush fabric affectionately and gave a satisfied smile. "Isn't it exciting?" she enthused to Elsa, referring to the annual celebration they were attending that day, in commemoration of their defeat of Prince Hans, Elsa's triumph in mastering her powers, and the new bond between the royal family and the people of Arendelle that was represented by the opening of the gates. "I can't believe it's already been two years! And so much has happened since then." Accustomed to her sister's quiet, thoughtful nature, Anna contented herself with Elsa's answering smile and straightened the bow on her cloak.

As if in affirmation of the changes that had occurred since their momentous victory, a boisterous knock at the door preceded the entrance of Kristoff, looking horrifically uncomfortable in a frilly white shirt and a green jacket to match his wife Anna's attire.

"Oh, Kristoff," Anna breathed, trying to bite back a laugh and failing pathetically, "What did they do to you?"

"If you think this is bad, wait until you see Sven," Kristoff chortled. "I'm so glad you're not actually making me wear this." He loosened the green silk tie and stuffed the offending garment in his pocket, rolling his head around his shoulders with a sigh of relief.

" _I_ think you look splendid," Elsa smirked from her window seat, trailing a finger down the pane and absent-mindedly staring at the line of ice she left behind. Tiny, lovely little drawings of people ice skating began to sprout across the window.

"You are, again, the least helpful sister-in-law of all time," Kristoff groaned. "Anna, you need to fire that new wardrobe master. He's a hack and you know it."

"I don't know about that," Anna grinned. "Don't you like what he made me?" She twirled in her beautiful new outerwear, the thick frills of her dress protruding underneath and making her look like a graceful ballerina...until she landed on her behind on the floor with a pronounced "oof!", that is.

Kristoff, used to his wife's enthusiastic displays, took her hand and pulled her back up with the ease of habitual affection. "I love it," he murmured, placing an emphatic kiss on her mouth. "Even though the designer clearly likes to make you look fantastic while punishing me. Does he have a past life in the ice industry? Do I owe him money?"

Elsa rolled her eyes at the display of affection between Anna and Kristoff, feeling again the intensity of her solitude by comparison. While she treasured her independence, Elsa often dreamed of meeting a man who would allow her to revel in it while providing romance and companionship.

No knock preceded the rushed entry of the palace guard who came almost sliding into Anna's room, skidding slightly as he stopped short, ice melting from his boots. "Your majesties!" The guard exclaimed, "We are under attack! You must come outside at once, and alert the army to assemble."

"Under attack!" Elsa said loudly, completely shocked by the sudden shattering of this joyful day's mood. "By whom?"

"I can hardly even describe the beast who is storming through our gates, my Queen," the guard replied in terror. "I can only warn you that there is a colossal monster headed directly towards the castle."

Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff made for the gates as fast as they could, followed closely by the royal army. Indeed, a savage and terrifying creature, massively hulking in form and as tall as the gates themselves, was wrathfully plunging towards them. What stopped Elsa's heart in her throat was the realization that the creature was made entirely of fire. Orange, red, and yellow flames flickered all over the beast's form as it touched rooftops, setting fires to her peoples' houses as they ran screaming from their doors.

Elsa reached deep down inside herself and summoned the greatest force of her power, unleashing an icy blast that struck the beast and made him instantly howl. The creature buckled, and at Elsa's next attack, he toppled over completely, seeming to lapse into unconsciousness.

"What are we going to do?" Anna whispered fearfully, her eyes huge with panic at the sight of Arendelle burning before them, with a perhaps only briefly incapacitated beast lying in the middle of the chaos, too alight with fire to be tied up or otherwise imprisoned.

"My Queen, if I may have a word," said one of the soldiers, grimly approaching Elsa.

"Of course," Elsa replied, crossing her arms and listening attentively.

"I've heard about this creature before, in legends told among the guards and soldiers. Never did I believe this Fire Beast was anything more than a tale told to frighten new recruits. But now..." The soldier shuddered.

"Where? Where were you stationed when you heard this tale? Where does this creature come from?" Elsa was desperate to learn some kind of history that might inform her how to proceed, how to protect her people from this completely unanticipated threat.

"The Southern Isles, my Queen," The soldier explained. "That's where the Fire Beast has been rumored to roam. The legend tells of him rising up to thwart the enemies of that kingdom, and that there is one chosen to control the beast and provide his orders."

"Who has been chosen?" Elsa asked, baffled.

"I have no idea, your majesty. Yet we all know that the monarchy of the Southern Isles have long looked upon Arendelle with a greedy eye. There is one who might know more about this dreadful threat to our safety, and yet, I hesitate to make the suggestion that you consult him. I even hesitate to speak his name to my Queen."

"It's alright," Elsa replied, swallowing hard to assuage the wave of revulsion that overtook her at the thought of what the soldier was so clearly indicating. "I know who it is you mean. I have to speak to Prince Hans."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Beware the frozen heart**

Prince Hans brushed the dirt from his shirtfront and scowled across the barn at the pitchfork that awaited him as yet another brutal day of manual farm labor began. It was wretched, thankless work whether in the burning heat of summer or the bitter cold of winter, and he was not made for such exertions in the first place. His heart lay in the thrill of the soldier's battle and the clever turn of a wicked scheme to gain power, but those gambits were the very ones that had landed him in this absurd predicament.

He shoved the pitchfork into the hay and pondered what evil impulse it could have been that caused his brothers to refuse him reentry into the Southern Isles. Surely they could have no moral qualm with his attempt to seize power over Arendelle - his whole family had spoken of little else during the whole span of his existence. Perhaps it was that Hans had come so close to achieving what they had never dared.

In his heart of hearts, Hans feared he knew the true reason, and it had nothing to do with his failed ambitions or their own unmounted battles. No, Hans thought there was a significant possibility that his family, and his brothers in particular, simply despised him out of instinct and always had. Given the chance to restrict him forever from being in their lives, they took the opportunity with zeal.

Sent back to Arendelle to work off a sentence in indentured servitude, Hans sometimes wished he could simply have served the years in a jail cell. However cramped and filthy such a prison might have been, at least he'd have been shielded from the hateful glares of the farmers and their families. He traveled from farm to farm each week, and quickly learned that his exploits had earned him the resentment of all Queen Elsa's loyal subjects. If there was one thing Hans didn't need, it was one more reminder that he was not only a miserable failure, but also an unloved, unwanted miserable failure.

Hans looked up and caught the gaze of a sweet-natured old brown cow, who stood chewing slowly and regarding him with gentle absence of judgement. Despite the fact that it ran counter to everything he knew about himself, Hans felt his face break into an irresistible smile. He stepped forward to pet the creature and murmured reflectively, "thank you, old girl."

The farmer cleared his throat loudly, shattering the peaceful moment. "Get up to the house," he snapped at Hans, not meeting the prisoner's eyes. "There's someone wanting to see you."

"That's unusual," Hans muttered darkly, whipping off his gloves and asking, "who is it?" - a foolish idea, since of course the farmer had turned and walked away without another thought for Hans.

He made his way through the stiff, crunchy snow and wiped his boots in the doorway to the kitchen. The farmer's wife wouldn't even speak to Hans, but nodded in the direction of their sitting room.

A feather could have knocked him flat on his back when he saw who it was that awaited him. Queen Elsa of Arendelle, in all of her pale, icy, untouchable glory, sat in a high-backed chair, her ungloved hands folded primly in her lap. Not knowing why he felt driven to bother, Hans ran a hand through his unruly hair to straighten it. Then he stopped himself and smirked at her, settling back into his old ways.

"Your Royal Highness," Hans said, giving a mocking bow.

"Sit," Elsa bit out, rolling her eyes. If she was at all startled by his altered appearance, his unkemptness, more muscular build, the exhausted look in his eyes, or the stubble that covered his cheeks and chin, she didn't show it. "I'm here for one reason, and that is information." As Hans flopped down into a chair across from her, she continued, "What do you know of the Fire Beast?"

Hans laughed shortly. "Don't tell me you fell for that sad old legend."

"It's no legend, as one burning town in Arendelle can attest. We are currently holding the beast captive near the palace, and only the application of my power can subdue him. I need another solution," Elsa worried, her eyes brimming with tears of stress she would never let fall, her voice on the verge of a tremor her pride held back. "Do you know if there's another way to stop him? Perhaps if we can find out who sent the beast?"

"Even if I knew something about all this," Hans began, genuinely shocked at her tale but cloaking it smoothly, "why would I help you? Why should I care if Arendelle burns to the ground? I'll escape among the flames and finally get my freedom from this wretched and unforgiving kingdom."

" _Unforgiving_?" Elsa repeated incredulously. She knew she had all too little time to argue with Hans, but this was too much. "Did you try to cut my head from my shoulders with a sword? Do you still breathe air?"

Hans smirked again, stroking his chin in false contemplativeness. "I guess when you put it that way. Still, I've yet to hear a real incentive for me."

"How about redemption?" Elsa proposed, her voice harsh, as if he should crave this precious gift above all else.

" _Please_ ," Hans replied, "I know no one on this earth truly believes me capable of that, myself included. It's far too late for me to be turning over any new leaves. I am what I am. One day, I shall escape this horrid, squalid existence and find a new way to gain the power I deserve. The life I've always wanted."

"Have you gotten _more_ insane since last we saw each other?" Elsa demanded angrily, "Is it so far removed from your mind that you might do something simply because it is _right_?"

"Oh," Hans answered blithely, "Yes, certainly."

"In that case," Elsa relented bitterly, "What do you say we take one year off of your sentence if you give me information and assistance that directly aids in stopping the beast's attacks on Arendelle?"

"One paltry year?" Hans repeated, irritated. "I'd still have four more to suffer through before being put into your appalling halfway program. I assure you, the idea of claiming a simple cottage for myself and making an honest living of my choice here in Arendelle, existing in a constant state of parole, is of no interest to me whatsoever."

"Those are your problems. One year is the offer. What is your answer?" Elsa inquired, crossing her arms haughtily.

The stunning silver and blue crystals that covered her snug-fitting gown sparkled in the mid-morning sun. Hans couldn't help thinking what a shocking jolt of beauty and perfection she was in this setting that was so grey and ugly. Her white-blonde hair was swept into a tight bun, her tiara perched in front, utterly impractical. Reminding him of a world he'd never be a part of again.

"Very well," Hans gave in, "One year. But whatever living I take up at the end of my sentence, I demand that it _not_ be farming. Even if you must procure the job for me yourself."

"Fine," Elsa agreed. She leaned forward eagerly. "Now what do you know?"

Hans leaned forwards as well, a natural force of instinct, almost as if he was drawn to her by some invisible magnet. He shook the thought away from his consciousness even as he felt a strange chemistry crackling between them as their eyes finally met directly. Elsa felt it too. He knew because she flinched, though she didn't draw back. They had little in common, but pride and insistence on keeping the upper hand were two priorities they shared.

"The legend, in every version - and there are many - clearly states that the beast can only be controlled by one who possesses a magical device. Whoever has this device in their possession is the one who sent this beast to attack Arendelle."

"And what is this device exactly?" Elsa asked, raising an eyebrow as if half-disbelieving him.

"I don't know," Hans admitted. Before she could voice her frustration or take back her offer to shorten his sentence, Hans rushed on, "But I do know how we can find out."

"How?" Elsa demanded intensely, urging him to explain more quickly.

"There's an old mountain man who lives in the Southern Isles," Hans told her. "His name is Magnus and he is known to possess great magical abilities. Magnus is the only one who is known to have witnessed the beast in action. The people of my kingdom say he may either be the owner of the magical device, or know where it is located."

"Then we must go to him," Elsa resolved, standing and pacing as a plan seemed to form in her mind, piece by piece.

"We?" Hans said with a laugh. "Surely you're kidding. I'm forbidden to ever enter my homeland again, and you can't leave Arendelle without the beast thawing and wreaking havoc once more."

"I certainly _can_ leave," Elsa refuted him. "I will build a wall of ice and snow around him so thick that it won't melt for quite some time. But this is not a permanent solution. I will not keep a creature locked up in a hell like that forever. Since someone else is controlling the Fire Beast, he cannot even be held accountable for his own actions."

"Your mercy is, as ever, most affecting, Queen Elsa," Hans answered with his smirk back in full force.

"Put your petty sarcasms aside and listen to me," Elsa insisted. "I will get us into your kingdom and you will take me to this mountain man. We will find out who is responsible for this attack and stop them."

"Well, alright," Hans agreed, stretching back in his chair and placing his hands behind his head in a self-satisfied posture. "I've got nothing better to do. When do we leave?"


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Heartbeats**

Elsa scowled at Hans' back as they made their way up the mountain to find the mysterious Magnus. Hans' irritating procrastination and foolish prattle had been working her last nerve since they'd left Arendelle. While this was a journey where time was of the essence to her, Hans clearly considered this to be a vacation from his work sentence. In addition to trying to slow them down and prolong his respite, he obviously delighted in harassing her.

"Why did you insist that I go first?" Hans whined as he made another turn on the steep and winding path. "There's enough room for us to walk together. How do I know you're not planning to push me over the edge?"

"That's the exact reason why you're going first," Elsa replied smoothly. "As if I'd ever turn my back on you again, or be able to stomach walking side by side with a murderous fiend such as yourself. And _you_ _'_ _re_ the one who actually knows where we're going," she reminded him, rolling her eyes.

"It's a mountain, your majesty," Hans answered, "We go up." He gestured sarcastically with a thumb. "And do you realize that I've been alone, hated and reviled, for the past two years? A little conversation would go a long way."

" _Then maybe you shouldn_ _'_ _t have tried to cut my head off with a sword_!" Elsa screamed at the top of her lungs, her arms flailing. She had finally, officially, had it with Hans. Her display of rage was so uncharacteristic that she saw his eyes widen in surprise.

He opened his mouth to reply, his expression having shifted from manipulative and stalling to serious and thoughtful. Elsa would never know the words that had been on his tongue just then.

Her burst of rage had, unbeknownst to her, caused a blast of winter to shoot outward from her fingertips. A small but potent avalanche was now hurtling directly for her, and it seemed there was nowhere she could move but to topple over the edge of the deadly precipice. Motionless with sheer terror, Elsa instinctively put her arms up to protect herself, just as her body was yanked backwards up the path by Hans, away from the danger. The rocks and ice went flying by and hit the ground with a resounding crash as she pulled herself from Hans' arms.

The force of their movement away from the avalanche had caused her to fall into his grip, his hands warm and strong against the too-thin material of her cloak. For a moment, she had felt the rapid beating of his heart against her back, his breath on her neck. Rather than triggering the feelings of disgust that such sensations ought to bring, Elsa found herself wanting to linger there another few seconds, another few heartbeats. It was in rebellion against her own strange and unaccountable instincts that she ripped her body free.

Her eyes met Hans and she felt that horrible flicker of _something_ between them again. She swallowed back against the ridiculous draw she seemed to feel towards this monster.

"You're welcome," Hans said with another one of his mock bows.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" Elsa asked irritably.

"No," he admitted, but then he touched her arm and she turned back slightly from her move to stalk away. "Look, I'm sorry."

"About what?" she wondered, crossing her arms.

"I'm sorry that I tried to kill you," Hans elaborated, talking quickly, as if saying it fast would lesson the atrociousness of his past act. "Genuinely. Sincerely. I will never make a move to hurt you again."

"You're right about that last part," Elsa confirmed icily.

"You don't accept my apology?" Hans inquired, disappointed. As if he had some right to be.

"I don't accept any part of you," she answered him unhesitatingly. For a moment, he seemed truly wounded. But then the shutters snapped back into place. Bitterness flooded his green eyes and he glared at her.

"Fine," Hans remarked coldly. "Let's just get this over with. That farm back in Arendelle is starting to look downright inviting compared to spending alone time with you."

They continued their ascent and reached the small cabin by nightfall. Elsa pulled her insubstantial cloak closer around her and stood to catch her slightly ragged breath, which shuddered out into the air before her in a white puff. Of course, the Southern Isles were by and large home to a beautifully warm climate, but those rules didn't apply to their current altitude.

"Well, here we are," Hans shrugged as Elsa finally came forward to stand beside him. It was a tiny, ramshackle sort of a home that lay before them. The blue-purple twilight framed the odd, slightly crooked abode, which seemed to possess some sort of supernatural glow despite its humble appearance.

Elsa strode upwards and knocked firmly on the door. After Elsa's third round of knocks, the door slowly creaked open to reveal a young woman with a suspicious and fearful expression. "Hello," Elsa began kindly, "My name is Queen Elsa of Arendelle, and I am here to ask for the help of a man named Magnus."

The woman pulled the door back a bit further and squinted slightly beyond Elsa, where Hans stood adjusting his heavy winter gloves and humming some random melody with his usual commitment to his current mission. "Who is that?" the woman asked in a quiet, intelligent voice.

"Never mind him," Elsa said before Hans could get a word in. "He's just my guide. Please, is Magnus here? My kingdom is being attacked by a Fire Beast, and I have heard that he may know how to stop the creature."

"I am sorry," the woman replied, taken aback. "Magnus was my uncle. He died two weeks ago." Her lovely lilac eyes softened at the sight of Elsa's stricken expression in response to this news. "You have both traveled far. Would you like to come in and relax for a little while? I have just made some hot stew."

"Don't mind if we do," Hans said with a wink, breezing past Elsa and into the cabin. Elsa followed, thoroughly disheartened, and sank into a chair in the surprisingly well-appointed dining room. Warm shades of maroon and turquoise accented the rich wall tapestries, the thick, expensive looking curtains, and the oriental rugs that covered the floors.

"My name is Marit," The woman announced as she placed two bowls of steaming food on the table in front of her visitors. Her eyes, upon closer examination, looked worn, probably from crying. Her long blonde hair had been crumpled into a haphazard bun at the nape of her neck, and her plain black gown only seemed to enhance the obviousness of her gentle beauty.

Marit sat down beside Elsa and remarked, "There is a _chance_ that I can help. My uncle had only recently begun to train me in the ways of magic. He left me his grimoire, in the hopes that despite my being only a novice, I might have inherited enough of his gift to continue my progress. I'm honestly not so sure."

"I would be eternally grateful if you would try," Elsa asked, and her pleading look won Marit over at once.

"Then try I shall," Marit agreed. "The first step, I believe, is to learn who exactly is controlling the Fire Beast."

Hans remained silent as Marit went to fetch the spell book, smilingly enjoying his stew as if it was the first good meal he had had in a long time - which Elsa sincerely hoped it was. His casual air of indifference showed that he was far from heartbroken that Magus was dead and unable to help them. Still, Elsa wondered just how deep into his soul the casual cruelty of his demeanor and behavior truly pierced.

"Here it is," Marit announced. She pulled her hair loose and refastened it much more tightly, her eyes sharply focusing on the task at hand. She pointed down at a glossy page in the enormous, gilded leather volume. " _To discern the identity of the Fire Beast_ _'_ _s master or mistress_." Marit closed her eyes and began speaking words in a language Elsa had never heard before, the words gorgeous and more ancient than she could fathom.

As the candlelight flickered across Marit's expression of intense concentration, words slowly began to write themselves across the page she had opened to. Florid cursive letters unfurled and then settled. Marit looked down at the words and blinked in surprise before turning the book around so that Elsa and Hans could see it.

Elsa's jaw dropped, while in Hans' eyes there blazed a look of genuine fear such as she had never glimpsed from him before. He quickly shook off his moment of weakness and rolled his eyes dismissively. Elsa certainly wasn't going to let Hans off that easily. Surely, given the name staring back at them, he must know something more than he had let on, and the notion angered her to the extreme.

" _Prince Anders_ ," Elsa read aloud, " _Of the Southern Isles_." Her blue eyes, sparkling with accusation, flitted to Hans, demanding an explanation. "Just what do you have to say about this?"


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Prince Anders of the Southern Isles**

"I know you'll take this with a grain of salt, given my history, but this is a _monumentally_ bad idea," Hans warned, gulping anxiously as they stood before the gates to his brothers' palace.

Indeed, Prince Anders was one of Hans' brothers. He was actually the eldest brother and first in line to the throne of the Southern Isles. Hans vowed he had nothing to do with Anders' probable schemes with the Fire Beast, but Elsa didn't know what to believe.

Elsa ignored Hans' warning and told the guards firmly that they would need to see Prince Anders at once. The guards' eyes flickered over Hans momentarily, clearly not recognizing him as their former Prince. Hans grimaced indignantly.

They were immediately admitted through the gates and into the palace. There, they were guided to a small, lavishly decorated sitting room adjacent to the Princes' throne room.

Elsa practically glided into the room, confident in her ability to confront and diffuse this situation. In the forefront of her thoughts was the concept that perhaps this was all an unfortunate misunderstanding. In the back of her mind lingered the fear that Anders had intentionally sent that Fire Beast to wreak terror and havoc on her kingdom, all so that he could take it for himself. Common sense told her which was the likelier scenario.

Elsa smoothed out the skirt of her pale lilac dress, pulling the sheer lacy sleeves down to her wrists and glancing at her ungloved hands.

If trouble did await them, she was ready.

An impeccably handsome young man entered the room and grinned as if Elsa was a long-lost friend, as if the sight of her filled him with unfathomable joy. Taken aback by his jubilance, Elsa did a slight double-take.

"Your majesty," Anders began with a deep bow. Decked out in an elaborate military uniform dripping with medals, the prince sat down without acknowledging Hans at all, and gestured for Elsa to sit beside him. "Please, join me. Can I have my servants bring you some refreshment?"

Elsa stood looking back and forth between Anders and Hans, who was concerning himself deeply with the patterns of the wallpaper.

After making a cursory bow in return to Anders, Elsa held her ground and asked, "Excuse me, Prince Anders, but did you not notice that I am accompanied by your brother, Prince Hans?"

"Who?" Anders asked with a dismissive gesture as Hans stood looking not remotely surprised, still not looking at his brother either. "I only see a common peasant."

Hans rolled his eyes, dusting off his disheveled coat and pants so that a shower of dirt and snow landed on the ornate rug.

"Queen Elsa," Hans explained, "You should just leave me out of this. Ignoring me is one of Anders' favorite games and has been from childhood. Now that I've been banished and become _this,_ it's only given him even more reason to cut me out of his life."

Elsa blinked, completely bewildered. Why would anyone treat a family relationship like a _game_ , or purposefully ignore their own brother? What could Hans have done as a child to deserve such cold treatment? She could ask Hans about it later, not that she knew why she cared in the first place. It was time to return to the matter at hand.

"Prince Anders—" she began, fighting to maintain her cool and confident attitude in the midst of so much bizarre behavior.

"Please," Anders said simperingly, resting his head on his chin to gaze at her, "call me Anders." His expression was that of an utterly entranced man who found Elsa simply enchanting. Given what the evidence had shown about Anders and how he acted towards Hans, Elsa knew this facade was unlikely to hold long. It was unsettling.

"Anders, then," Elsa replied with a glittering smile, turning on her political charm. "I'm afraid some rather dire and decidedly strange news brings me to the Southern Isles."

"Isn't that the only kind of news that ever brings _anyone_ to the Southern Isles?" Anders asked drolly before bursting into laughter and prompting the surrounding servants, who all looked terrified, to do the same. Elsa ignored the comment and moved on, while Hans had taken to plucking appetizers off the platters held by the statue-like servants.

"There is a Fire Beast intent on laying siege to one of our villages," Elsa explained, "to be specific, it's the village directly beyond my palace walls. It feels like an attack on my rule. I have neutralized the creature for now, but it is my desire to find a solution where the beast can be set free from the command to attack us. You see, the Fire Beast is controlled by a master through a spell, and has no will of his own."

"And you _pity_ this foul beast? What a kind and caring woman you must be," Anders remarked, looking bored.

"You don't seem surprised by by story," Elsa remarked, crossing her arms. Now, finally, the Prince's false air of friendliness was beginning to fade.

"Certainly not," Anders replied smoothly, "I sent the beast myself, and you know that, or you wouldn't be here." He looked like the cat who got the cream, and his brazenness again shocked Elsa.

"Ha," Hans remarked, chewing his snack with an "I told you so" expression.

Elsa stood from her chair and confronted Anders angrily. "I have paid you the courtesy of giving you the benefit of the doubt, but you clearly have no shame about your plans to take my kingdom from me. I warn you, you will fail. Stop this scheme right now, and there will be no need for further violence."

"Is that so, your majesty?" Anders inquired. "And what is it that you propose?"

Elsa narrowed her eyes, feeling the icy powers on the brink of blasting out from her fingers. She shut her eyes tight to reign in her temper, then opened them again in a flash of barely suppressed blue rage.

"Give me power over the beast and cease all attempts to attack my lands," Elsa demanded. "Promise here and now, and in writing, that you will never again invade Arendelle." A small flurry of snowflakes floated out from her fingertips, swirling as a clear hint of the consequences if Anders declined.

"A tempting offer," Anders said sarcastically, glancing at her tiny snowstorm without a moment's anxiety, "But I'll have to decline. With a flick of Anders' wrist, a young man dressed in a similar uniform to the one he wore stepped from behind his chair and approached Elsa in a few aggressive strides. Elsa pulled back her arm, preparing to ward off the potential attack with her powers.

"No, stop!" Hans shouted, though at whom Elsa couldn't be sure.

Before she could retaliate, the young man had unleashed some sort of magic that stilled her hand and left her standing on the spot, completely immobilized. Elsa could see, speak, and hear, but couldn't so much as move her head to look another way.

"What is this?" She shouted furiously.

"This is my dear brother, Prince Lars," Anders told her, stepping down happily to clap a hand on his brother's shoulder. Like Anders and Hans, Lars had shining auburn hair and a handsome face. But his eyes were full of terrible secrets and his twisted expression betrayed a mind equally as unbalanced as Anders. Lars looked like the wild, power-wielding maniac to Anders' genteel sociopath, and suddenly Hans was starting to seem like the real winner of the family.

 _Surely_ , Elsa thought, _I must be dreaming._


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: New possibilities**

"Don't you dare say it," Elsa ordered Hans as the cell door slammed shut. She shuffled around on the hard, stone floor, finding it immediately impossible to be comfortable where she sat. She yanked her arms back and forth in their tight restraints, which someone had been thoughtful enough to fit with iron coverings for her hands, blocking off her powers.

Clearly, Prince Anders had planned to hold Elsa in this very dungeon, and had prepared accordingly.

"How dare you attempt to deprive me of the only pleasure to be had in this ridiculous predicament - which by the way, has me longing for that delightful farm life you pulled me away from. Thanks a lot," Hans smirked humorlessly, " _And_ , I told you so."

"Shut up," Elsa snipped, narrowing her eyes. Then she shut them and sighed exhaustedly. Thinking of her people back in Arendelle and missing Anna terribly, she was tired to her very soul, but she had to keep from losing faith that they could win this fight.

Hans sat chained next to her, his arms limp as if he accepted his fate. "Don't give up," she groaned, knowing they'd need each other to find a way out of this. As much as that irked her.

"Of course I'm not giving up," Hans retorted wryly. The moonlight poured into the cell from a nearby barred window, revealing his weary features and shining off of his bedraggled white shirt. "I'm merely thinking."

"We're doomed," Elsa deadpanned.

Elsa noticed that Hans' posture was getting even more slack as the minutes slid by.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, scrutinizing his heavy-lidded eyes.

"That's a really broad question," Hans answered, his wit characteristic though his words were slurred. "Ah, I think I know what it is," he realized. "The food must have been drugged."

"Drugged?" Elsa exclaimed. "Are you serious?"

"Of course," Hans explained, "That way, if you were feeling peckish at all, it would be quite easy to capture you. You'd just fall asleep and right into the waiting arms of the jailor. No need for Lars' talents."

"Lars," Elsa repeated thoughtfully, fearfully.

"Horrifying specimen, isn't he?" Hans pointed out. "It's as if his completely brainless expression and the brute joy he gets out of petrifying his victims form the _perfect_ counterpart to Anders' false courtliness and merrily psychotic monologuing."

"You've had a lot of time to think about this," Elsa guessed, glancing around the floor for something to pick the locks of her chains. There was nothing.

"I've had a _lifetime_ to think about it," Hans confirmed, his eyes closed now and his words coming slower. "As humiliating as it was when my brothers started to ignore me, in a lot of ways, it was a relief. But then sometimes Lars would remember me long enough to petrify me, right before he conveniently forgot about me again."

Before she could think about it or stop herself, Elsa stared at him and murmured, "I'm sorry," overcome by sympathy for the childhood Hans must have endured. Then she saw that he'd fallen asleep, and as she watched, his head gradually drooped down until his cheek rested against her shoulder.

His skin was hot and flushed against her, his features peaceful and innocent, an expression she'd never seen from him before, _and probably never will again_ , she smirked. Yet some little voice in the back of Elsa's mind wouldn't let her ignore that he looked undeniably… _cute_ in this bizarrely gentle state. She could have shrugged him off of her, but she did not.

She would never admit any of this to anyone, ever.

Elsa closed her eyes and resigned herself for a long wait until daylight brought a better chance to see options for escape.

Dawn spilled through the iron bars and spread its sunshine across the floor before Hans was ready to return to consciousness. For one thing, the splitting headache he was developing as a result of having been drugged was enough to make him want to retreat even further into the deepest sleep possible. He shifted slightly and realized with a start that he was leaning against Elsa, and what was even more unaccountable…she was letting him. He glanced up at her sweet sleeping expression and admitted to himself that she was beautiful.

It was not the first time Hans had thought about this, and his thoughts on the subject seemed to grow more serious each time it came unbidden into his mind.

Her slow and steady breathing halted as her eyes fluttered open, her chest rising and falling more quickly. She looked down at Hans with a little start. "Get off of me," she insisted groggily, as if she hadn't known he was there all night. He didn't quite believe her. Still clad in her fancy lilac gown, Elsa was far too lovely in all her grumpiness for him to feel affronted.

"Fine," Hans agreed, putting on a veneer of heartless disregard and finding it as comfortable as this cell was uncomfortable. "Just so you know, I'd _have_ to be drugged to wind up doing _that_." Elsa bristled, but before she could answer, Hans added, "And by the way, your shoulders are bony. That was very unpleasant."

Elsa glared at him. "Well, your beard is all rough and prickly. It was just as unpleasant for me."

"Sure," Hans grinned, stretching his arms as much as he could.

"Just what do you mean by that?" Elsa demanded.

"Why do you care so much?" Hans asked briskly.

"Ugh, never mind," Elsa said dismissively, "I don't have time for your foolish games. We have to find a way out of here. I can only imagine what Anders will do now that he has me imprisoned and Arendelle is left vulnerable without me."

"What are you going to do when we get out of here?" Hans asked, hearing his voice changing from the pretense of mocking to rather pensive in a heartbeat.

"I'm going to freeze myself an Anders-sicle," Elsa announced boldly.

"That's the spirit," Hans remarked with a chuckle. Despite all of her defenses against him, Elsa helplessly collapsed into an irresistible burst of laughter at the absurdity and hopelessness of their situation, combined with the ridiculousness of what she'd just said.

A voice chirped out through the window above them, causing Elsa and Hans to startle. "What's so funny?" Marit asked, squinting through the bars.

"What are you doing here?" Elsa asked, hugely grateful to see their new friend at this moment.

"I was worried about you two, after you said you were going to confront Prince Anders," Marit admitted. "I knew _that_ wasn't going to end well."

"Not a word," Elsa warned Hans. "Can you get us out of here?" she called up to Marit.

"Yes," Marit said thoughtfully, rubbing her hands together to prepare for a spell. "Yes, I think I can." Within an effortless wisp of a moment, Hans and Elsa found themselves transported out of the cell and standing next to Marit outside. The only evidence of the magic which had just been worked was the faint purple cloud that hovered around them.

"Thank you, Marit," Hans said heartily, touching her shoulder and smiling warmly. He wasn't used to anyone doing him favors, least of all out of friendship. Marit returned his smile shyly, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a cloud cross Elsa's expression. What did that mean?

"We have to stop Anders before he gets to Arendelle," Elsa declared, steeling herself for another journey.

"It won't be easy," Marit explained. "For one thing, he's got the gates under lock and key and no one is allowed to leave the borders of the Southern Isles without Princess Nina's express permission. And for another, even when you do get to him, Anders has Prince Lars at his side constantly. You'd have to count on being able to unleash your own powers before Lars used his again."

"With your help," Elsa said warmly, "It's possible. I know we can do it." Her gaze travelled to Hans, who stood rubbing his wrists and blinking as if the sunlight were painful. "What are the chances of you convincing Nina to help us?"

"It's unlikely, but not as bleak a situation as we faced before. My older brothers were always lofty, untouchable, eager to keep me in my place. Nina is my twin. As children, we were close."

"Then we must try," Elsa determined. She had to wonder, not only _how many_ siblings Hans actually had, but also, why had Anders left Nina in charge during his absence? Whatever were the other ten Princes busy with at the moment? A potentially frightening thought.

Once Marit had helped them sneak back into the palace, Hans and Elsa crept into Princess Nina's chamber and found her sitting by her harp, plucking out a melancholy tune. Her long, golden-red hair was braided loosely and fell elegantly over one shoulder. Her sparkling pink gown brought out the rosiness in her complexion, and her expression lacked the cruelty of Anders or Lars. She looked as if she were lost in some sad reverie.

"Nina," Hans whispered intensely, shaking his sister out of her haze. Nina gasped and leapt to her feet, the harp nearly falling to the floor with a crash. Hans reached the instrument in time to prop it back up. "It's good to see you too, sis."

"Hans, are you insane?" Nina exclaimed in shock. She rushed over to him and took his hands in affectionate panic. "You'll be executed on sight if anyone else sees you here!"

" _Anyone_?" Hans asked ruefully. "I didn't think all twelve of you siblings hated me so. What about….Nils? We had some good times. And some of the servants—"

"Oh for heaven's sake, you know what I mean!" Nina said in frustration. "And you're obviously not thinking about Father, either."

"I try not to, as often as possible," Hans replied. "Since he's an invalid letting Anders run the kingdom into the ground and mount pointless attacks on other lands, I'm assuming Father is no real threat to me at present."

Nina rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue. "Hans, you know as well as I do that Father is _always_ a threat."

"Well, that's beside the point," Hans declared. "Nina, you have to allow me and this woman—" He pointed to Elsa, who stood staring at yet more references to Hans' disturbing family life — "who, as you can see, is Queen Elsa of Arendelle—to pass through the gates and stop Anders from making an even greater fool of himself than ever before."

"You're behaving strangely," Nina observed, crossing her arms and furrowing her brow. "Since when do you care what Anders does as long as he stays out of your way? Are you that annoyed that he's going after your precious Arendelle, after your own foiled attempt?"

Acutely aware that Elsa was watching and listening, Hans was unspeakably irritated when he felt himself blush. "No!" he argued, "It isn't like that. I…." he trailed off, not sure how to put his motivations into words. Why _was_ he rushing to help Elsa and protect Arendelle, anyway?

"Hans has changed," Elsa said, her voice betraying that this realization had just occurred to her. "Truly, Princess Nina, if there is any way you can assist us, I'll be forever grateful."

"I've long been tired of Anders' ceaseless gambits for glory and the way Lars follows him around like a deranged puppy," Nina confessed. "What's more, I'm forever wounded by the way Father turned us all against one another just to sit back and watch the fray. It's high time we turned the tide and did something good instead of letting our brothers cause more trouble. As surprised as I am that one as devious as you has turned over a new leaf, Hans, I'm inclined to encourage it. So, yes, I'll help you. But first, for goodness sake, I'm going to get you some clean clothes!"

Hans embraced his sister, who pretended to be overwhelmingly mortified by the dirt that got onto her perfect dress. It felt good to admit that he'd missed Nina, that he loved his sister. It felt amazing to be within the palace walls and start to feel empowered instead of held down and frightened. Who knew who he could have been if he hadn't been fettered from such a young age by his family's retaliatory bitterness and rage? Hans had never truly wondered before, but it seemed like an important question now.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Revelations**

Marit accompanied Hans and Elsa back to the gates of the Southern Isles as they began their pursuit of Anders and Lars. Surely, Elsa reasoned, if she and Marit combined their magic, they could defeat the dastardly princes. Hans stood just outside the gates and scanned the glittering green landscape analytically. The sun shone down benignly and the clouds floated gently across the clear blue sky. Everything about the beautiful and serene-looking Southern Isles seemed to belie the wickedness and cruelty of the royal family.

"I'm sure he's bound for Arendelle," Hans remarked. "The plan was probably that you'd either be killed by the beast or come here, leaving the throne uninhabited and open for them to take."

"I wonder where I recognize _that_ scheme from," Elsa said darkly, crossing her arms as Hans turned to confront her strong words, which obviously referred to his past misdeeds.

She tried not to stare at him, with his clean, freshly-pressed clothes and pristinely handsome appearance. Only his neatly trimmed beard reminded her of his recent work sentence and how much he had changed. He looked every inch the confident and clever prince she had first met two years ago, when he had tried to marry Anna to worm his way into the royal family and eventually oust her. Yet there was a new clarity and purpose in his expression, along with something unnamable — or that she did not _want_ to name — glittering in his beautiful sea-glass green eyes when he looked at her. She feared it, feared _him_ , feared the painful dig of some new dagger that pierced her heart and made her blood burn when their eyes met or when they brushed against each other in passing. With her bickering words, she was overcompensating to hide her feelings, and hating herself for even thinking of such insane things when her kingdom — and Anna — were in danger.

"I think we should let that well-worn topic drop," Hans replied, crossing his own arms and bringing them to a stand-off. His tone was somewhat accusatory, which she found ludicrous beyond belief. Who was he to take offense to any bitterness she might feel towards him?

"I don't think that's possible," Elsa answered coldly, "But I shouldn't have said that, if only because we have no time for indulging in another one of our arguments."

"Yes, you two and your _arguments_ ," Marit smiled perceptively, looking back and forth between them. "It's quite charming."

" _Excuse_ me?" Elsa said just as Hans exclaimed, " _What_?"

"Never mind," Marit smirked, holding up her grimoire. "I have a spell for finding people. Give me a moment."

As Marit turned and went to work on her spell, completely controlled and sure of herself, Elsa turned to murmur in Hans' ear, "When we first met her, didn't she say she wasn't even confident in her abilities? That she was still a novice training with her uncle? But look how powerful she is, how much she knows, what she can do."

"What is it that you suspect Marit of?" Hans asked, his breath warm against Elsa's cheek. She blinked away the sensation, or tried to.

"I think she's hiding something, and I don't know if we can trust her," Elsa explained. "But it's strange. She's helped us, even rescued us…"

"Exactly," Hans replied, "So let's give her the benefit of the doubt. Partially because she's our only option. How else are we going to find my crazy and very-much-on-the-warpath brothers as quickly as we need to?"

Elsa nodded, glancing with unabated worry over at Marit as a swirl of purple magic billowed up from the girl's slender, elegant hands.

"This way," Marit told them, mounting her horse and moving forward, knowing that they would follow. Her eyes betrayed some suspicion of Elsa's brewing distrust of her, but she said nothing more.

It was a long walk, and the sun was starting to sink behind the hills ahead of them by the time they caught sight of the long line of soldiers astride horses. Elsa pulled her white steed to a halt, stroking the animal's mane and mentally thanking Princess Nina again for loaning them the horses.

"I don't exactly think a sneak attack is in the cards," Hans said, pulling up beside Elsa and frowning as the soldiers immediately turned to face them.

"Apparently not," Elsa agreed grimly. She looked at Marit, who seemed to be avoiding her all of a sudden. "Marit, it's time for us to confront Lars. Let's put an end to this madness once and for all."

As Marit turned to face them, her voice was slightly broken when she answered. "I'm sorry, Queen Elsa. But I fear the madness, as you call it, is only beginning."

"Oh, you didn't know, I take it?" Prince Anders was riding up to meet them, calling out to them in his haughtiest voice. "Marit's in my pocket and has been all along. She works for me."

"That's what 'in my pocket' _means_ ," Hans retorted. "You always were a repetitious bastard."

"Oh, Hans, I hardly think we want to begin speaking of bastards, now do we?" Anders grinned maliciously as Elsa's confusion reached new heights.

However, no matter what Marit's reasons might be for helping Anders and betraying Elsa and Hans, Elsa had no intention of letting Anders' monologuing delay the inevitable. That was how she had ended up petrified last time. So she called up every bit of magic within her and with no preamble, launched a veritable ice storm directly at Lars, who instantly froze solid, tumbling from his unharmed horse and hitting the ground with a loud thud.

"How on Earth do you expect that to last in this weather?" Anders said mockingly, pointing at the warm sun as it continued to set in the distance.

"Easily," Elsa replied smoothly, raising one hand to the sky and calling forth a frost that immediately took hold of the air and lowered the temperature so rapidly that even Anders flinched momentarily.

"How do _you_ like being frozen in place, Lars?" Elsa asked wryly.

"I do like the poetic justice," Hans said to Elsa with a genuine smile.

"I admit, I never thought much of your supposed powers," Anders remarked, "I thought Hans was exaggerating. Be that as it may, there's a simple way to stop your continued existence as an obstacle to my rule of your former kingdom. Marit, please destroy these two…that is, if you ever want to see your fiance again."

At the same time that Marit's motives became clearer, the frightened, yet sadly determined young woman stepped forward and raised her hands to cast her spell. Elsa flicked one hand upward and Marit stood as frozen as Lars, her large violet eyes full of unshed tears, her long, blonde hair captured in time as it blew in the newly frigid wind.

"I'm sorry too, Marit," Elsa whispered. She felt Hans' reassuring presence beside her, amplified when his hand momentarily rested on her shoulder.

"You didn't have a choice," Hans told her before turning back towards his brother. The soldiers were now surrounding them, swords raised.

"I told my men to keep their distance because you were my brother. I thought Marit's quick spell more merciful than a soldier's blade," Anders explained crisply, straightening his jacket and sneering at Hans and Elsa. "However, my patience has run its course. Men, you may attack when ready."

"I don't think that's a good idea, officers," Elsa called out, smiling as she held her hands aloft, snowflakes fluttering from her fingertips. "Do you really know for certain that you can strike either of us down before I can turn you into an ice sculpture like your friends over there?"

The soldiers hesitated, and in the space of that moment, Anders' cool reserve shattered. "You cowardly fools will all pay for your disobedience," he snarled, grabbing a sword from one of the men and launching himself at Elsa without a moment's hesitation.

A second sword struck Anders' blade and stopped it before it touched Elsa, as Hans's lightning-fast draw of his weapon took his brother by surprise. Anders laughed humorlessly.

"You against me, brother? What a joke." Anders hit back brutally, but Hans was faster, more agile, more strategic. Soon Anders was sitting on the now snow-encrusted ground, holding a hand out for mercy.

"Yes, I'm laughing on the inside," Hans retorted drily. Elsa came to stand beside him and quickly froze Anders. The wicked prince sat there helpless and enraged as Elsa and Hans paused to consider what to do next.

"What are we going to do about all of these…frozen people?" Hans asked, glancing from Anders to Lars, and back to Marit.

"I think we'd better tell Princess Nina about this situation and let her decide the best fate for Anders and Lars now that they have been…quieted."

"I don't know about that, Elsa. I don't trust my father not to free my brothers at once, at which point Nina would have no defense against them." Hans' concern for Nina was as strong as his conviction of his father's nefariousness.

"I thought your father was an invalid," Elsa said, perplexed.

"A fact that didn't stop him from sending me to the Southern Isles and telling me that if I didn't find a way to rule it, he would disown me for the useless bastard brat I am," Hans said, sinking onto a large rock and running a hand through his hair, avoiding Elsa's eyes. "My father's illness is of a long duration, and has not prevented him from stirring the pot and creating trouble for everyone in the family…and plenty of others, too."

Elsa sat beside Hans, resisting the strong urge she felt to take his hand. "Your father…is he not your…" she struggled for a polite wording. "real father?" she finally finished falteringly.

"No, he is not," Hans admitted. He turned his eyes to hers again and began to confide in her with secrets Elsa doubted anyone outside of the royal family knew. "My mother was his fourth wife, after the first three died under suspicious circumstances. Any attempt to rebel against my father's iron hand and strict rules of conduct, his manipulative, repressive, suffocating presence…" Hans trailed off, the potency of his bitterness startling to Elsa.

"You believe he murdered his first three queens?" Elsa asked, shocked.

"Yes, there's little doubt among any of us that this was the case," Hans explained. "All three took ill suddenly and quickly died, the doctors unable, or unwilling, for the sake of their own lives, to find a reason."

"Poisoning," Elsa guessed. "But your mother?"

"My mother was different," Hans said, his expression shifting to a more contemplative, affectionate one. "She was far too smart for my father. Even after being bullied into the marriage by her own family, she found ways to evade my father's every attempt to control her movements and restrict her from even the simplest freedoms. One of those rebellions of hers was a romance with the head of the royal guard…"

"Your real father," Elsa put in. "And where he he now? Where is your mother?" She was almost afraid to learn the answers.

"My real father, whose name was also Hans, was executed, of course. One would expect nothing less once my fath— the King, that is, was finally able to learn the truth of my mother's actions and pieced together the story of my and Nina's paternity. The King was determined to keep me and Nina as his own children, and to make sure my mother never saw us again, all to spite her. Nina was safe because she was the only girl in the family, and my father took her on as a ward of sorts, tucked away playing her harp and bringing a little softness and refinement to the family, as he saw it. He felt nothing for Nina in particular, but he hated me and my rebellious streak that was so like my mother's."

Hans paused and folded his hands, gazing off into the dwindling sunset. "My mother, Annalise, was sent away in shame and exile to a prison located in an unknown place. I thought that if I could ever wrest some power for myself, I could find her, save her."

Elsa shivered after hearing Hans' story. "Is that why you wanted to take over Arendelle?"

"Yes, that's true," Hans confessed. "But I was so wrong-headed then. It was beyond reproach, what I did to you and Anna. I let myself be molded by the selfish and immoral actions of the King and my brothers, even though I despised them. It made no sense. In some way, I wanted to prove myself to them, little as they deserved it. Worse still, I allowed my own morals to be twisted, let myself reason that saving my mother was more important than anything else. Even the lives of strangers. And I can't make any excuses for myself, or try to claim that every terrible thing I did was just to rescue her. I see now that I was absolutely mad for power, driven by an insatiable need for the only thing I'd ever been taught was worth having, the only way to free myself and feel I was worth something, too. I've never heard of anything so selfish." Hans actually hung his head, causing Elsa to feel another wave of shock roll over her.

"Hans, why are you admitting all of this to me?" she asked softly. She could feel her cheeks flushing as her eyes blinked back unbidden tears of sadness and confusion. They were like the tears you cried when someone slapped you hard in the face with no warning. That Hans had been shaped by such wretched ordeals was just as painful to her as the understanding of how depraved he had allowed himself to become before coming to his senses. But if he had come to his senses, if there was really so much more to him than she'd ever imagined possible…could she forgive him?

Hans raised his head and looked at her very frankly, and with an expression of utter seriousness. He reached out and stroked her cheek, his touch tender and rugged somehow at the same time. Elsa leaned into his hand without thinking, a tear finally managing to slide free. Hans swept the tear aside and said, "You know why."

He walked away, standing tall and thoughtful as twilight overtook the environs and a new shade of confusion fell over Elsa's soul.

After a moment, she brushed her tears away and summoned one of the soldiers, who all stood looking a bit like idiots, their purpose stripped from them with Anders' fall.

"Return to the palace, and tell your fellow officers to do the same," Elsa commanded the soldier, who flinched back from her in fear of her icy powers. "I have a message for you to give to Princess Nina. We will bring Anders and Lars back to the palace to be immediately imprisoned, and Nina is to continue reigning for the time being. Prince Hans and I are going to Arendelle."

The officer could clearly make little sense of Elsa's message or plans, but he nodded and began to organize the other men.

Hans turned and watched the soldiers making to leave, and then he walked back over to Elsa. "How can we protect my sister? You know what I'm thinking…"

"Yes," Elsa noted, a little worried about how in sync their thoughts seemed to be lately. "We need Marit for that," she said, gesturing over to the frozen witch with a heavy sigh. "And anyway, it's time we heard her story."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: This swirling storm inside**

"Oh, dear," Marit breathed after Elsa had melted the ice around her. She looked back and forth from Hans to Elsa, taking in their exhausted and sympathetic, yet annoyed expressions.

"Marit, we know that Anders must have put you in a terrible position," Elsa began gently.

"He's good at that," Hans acknowledged. "And so, we're inclined to be forgiving of the way you just tried to kill us and everything. Why don't you tell us your whole sad story, because we just _love_ those, and then we can find a way to help you — so you can help us. You owe us that much."

"True," Marit admitted. "Well," she began, sinking to the ground, where Elsa had strewn a few blankets over the still-damp grass. "My uncle, first of all, was not a very nice man."

"No need for vagueness," Hans insisted, "We know all about annoying relatives."

"Alright, he was treacherous, deceitful, and greedy," Marit explained. "My uncle Magnus made a deal with Prince Anders involving the Fire Beast. Magnus was the only one who possessed the spell, from my family's grimoire, to turn a man into the Beast and then control him. And my uncle was well paid for his involvement in Anders' scheme against Arendelle.

Since my uncle disapproved of my engagement to a poor shepherd boy named Adam, he decided to take advantage of the opportunity Anders had presented. In selecting the man to be transformed into the Beast—"

"He chose your fiance?" Elsa asked, shocked to hear of Magnus' cruelty.

"Indeed," Marit confirmed. "So now, thanks to your mercy and quick thinking, Adam is perfectly safe in Arendelle. He needs only the spell to change him back to his human form. The problem is that Magnus ripped the page with the reversal spell out of the grimoire and gave it to Anders. Ever since, he's been using it to blackmail me into doing his bidding, like leading you two right into his clutches twice. I'm so sorry for that. I just couldn't live with knowing that Adam would be forced to remain a beast forever, because of my doing."

"I understand," Elsa said softly, putting a comforting hand on Marit's shoulder.

"Actually, I think you could've come clean a little sooner and saved us all a lot of trouble," Hans put in. "But who am I to judge? The fact of the matter is that Elsa and I will simply have to retrieve that page from Anders' chambers, presuming it is there. Then she and I will travel to Arendelle to change Adam back to a human, and in the meantime, you will stay here to protect my sister Nina from my brothers and possibly any scheme my father may cook up."

"That is more than fair, and I thank you for your help," Marit replied humbly. "I do not think Anders put the page in his chambers, though. He made a point of saying to me that he had given it to someone else, 'the one person who knows how to hide things where no one else can ever find them.' Even Anders didn't know where the page was."

"Oh, fantastic!" Hans exclaimed sarcastically. "He's gone and given the page to Nils."

"Another one of your brothers?" Elsa asked.

"Yes, and luckily for us, though Nils is an odd bird, he's one of the least awful of my brothers. I _might_ be able to reason with him."

Back to the palace they went, and Hans was able to learn from Nina that Nils had returned from a few days' travel and was currently resting in his room.

"Nils has been off on another one of his spirit quests," Nina explained.

"Spirit quests?" Elsa inquired curiously.

"Yes, Nils tends to disappear into his own little world. He dreams of one day becoming a wizard, as he's always been jealous that Lars was born with magical abilities. Each brother, you see, pursued power in his own way, and this has always been Nils' approach. He bears his siblings no ill will but barely _sees_ us, or anyone else, as he's constantly distracted by the latest spell he's trying to learn. He's rather intolerant of interruptions as well," Nina added.

"Interesting," Elsa ventured politely, relieved that at least, like Nina, Nils didn't sound malicious or murderous.

"Eccentric," Hans elaborated. "But let's go and see what we can get out of him. He _is_ really good at hiding things, the creepy little fellow."

Elsa and Hans found Nils poring over piles of large, ancient-looking tomes in the palace library. He didn't look up from his studies as he said, "What is it now, Hans? I've precious little time for your usual nonsense." Elsa was impressed that Nils took Hans' return in stride and seemed so effortlessly perceptive. It was as if, as far as Nils was concerned, Hans' absence might as well have been of a few minutes' duration rather than a few years.

"I _might_ have tried to get Nils to use his burgeoning abilities to help me take over Arendelle a couple of years ago," Hans explained. "But he wasn't interested. Sometimes I wonder what it is he's garnering all of his supposed power for, anyway. Empire-building isn't your interest, is it, brother?"

"No, I'm more interested in building a wealth of knowledge, which is its own power. I haven't entirely decided what to do with it when I've come into my full abilities."

"I told you," Hans whispered, "He's nuts."

"Or trying to find himself," Elsa answered with a tolerant smile.

"Nils," Elsa continued, striding up to the studious Prince, who shared his brothers' fine bone structure, though his features were more angular, and he and wore a pair of spectacles that seemed to threaten to fall from the bridge of his nose at any moment.

Hans admired the elegant sweep of Elsa's movements, even in the more commonplace attire she now wore, a simple dark maroon dress of Nina's that was intended for the Princess's riding lessons. Elsa's hair was gathered into a simple braid that fell over one shoulder, and Hans felt a secret ambition to one day release that hair from its bindings and watch it tumble around her face. Even for Hans, this particular image was too provocative for him to consider without blushing a bit, so he cleared his throat and averted his eyes as Elsa began to speak to Nils.

"The safety of my kingdom….and of my sister…" Elsa's voice wavered as she mentioned Anna, "depend on me being able to access something that you have. It's a missing page from Magnus' grimoire that Anders told you to hide."

"Very well, very well," Nils said distractedly, reaching up into thin air and retrieving a page slowly out of nowhere. Bit by bit, it appeared, until it was held in its entirely within Nils' grip.

"Brother!" Hans enthused, "Your talents have grown immensely over time!"

"So you mean I'm no longer a 'no-talent, no-count hack' or 'an embarrassment to the family'?" Nils still didn't look at Hans as he repeated what were clearly his brother's own past insults back to him.

Hans flinched. "I did say that, didn't I?" Elsa shook her head and looked on the verge of tsk-tsking. "Well, I was wrong," Hans admitted, prompting Nils to meet his bother's eyes for the first time. "And frankly, how could anyone be an embarrassment to _our_ family? You've worked harder and more honestly to find your own path in the world than I ever did. Good for you, Nils."

Hans clapped his brother on the shoulder and strode off as Nils handed the page to Elsa. "I'm just giving this to you so that you two will go away and leave me in peace. I couldn't care less for my various siblings' bizarre agendas. However….who in the world was that, and what have you done with my brother Hans?"

Hans heard Nils' words and smiled in secret pride as he glanced back to see Elsa grin warmly. Maybe he _was_ capable of change, Hans considered happily. It was the kind of pure happiness he had seldom felt before. But even if he changed…would Elsa ever look at him and not think of his terrible act towards her in the past? Could she ever feel for him what he was so unbearably conscious of feeling for her?

"We've got the page," Elsa confirmed to Marit as she climbed onto her horse and Hans did the same beside her.

"It's up to you to watch after Nina, and how about Nils as well, in our absence," Hans entreated. "We'll send Adam back to you once he is healed."

"I will happily protect them and keep an eye on Anders and Lars," Marit vowed. "After all I did to the two of you, I cannot believe you are willing to help me. I'm eternally grateful."

"So you made a few mistakes. Let's just say, I get it," Hans remarked blithely, riding off with Elsa trailing him.

The journey back to Arendelle required a passage by boat, and they were able to hire a well-appointed vessel manned by a trustworthy and respectful crew.

That evening, Elsa was just settling down to sleep in her cabin when she felt the boat beginning to rock back and forth in an increasingly violent manner that struck fear into her heart. She leapt from her bed with a hand pressed to her heart and hurried to put on her dressing gown and grab the lamp from her table to go up and investigate.

She saw Hans emerging at the same time, clad in a loose white shirt and plain black pants. He looked as if he had been in the middle of changing before going to sleep when he came out to see what the commotion was about. As their eyes met, a silent anxiety was shared between them. Once up on deck, they saw that the rain had begun to pour down in buckets as the waves picked up in vast torrents, whipping the ship to and fro at ever more frightening speeds and angles.

"Your majesty," the Captain begged in a panic, "Is there anything that your powers can do to offset this dreadful storm?"

"I fear not," Elsa replied, "I can turn rain to snow, but that won't help us now. I cannot still the wind or lesson the rain. My powers are about creating wintry conditions, not revoking stormy ones that contain no elements of snow or ice."

Hans saw the color draining from Elsa's face as she watched the sailers racing about the deck, desperately trying to control the ship. Her blue eyes were huge with a fear he never expected to see there. He realized that he'd always thought of her as fearless.

"Elsa," he said, taking her gently by the shoulders, "Are you alright?"

"It's…the storm…the possibility of a shipwreck." Elsa looked sick and overwhelmed by dread. "It…reminds me…" her breaths came heavily and with labor, "reminds me of what happened to my parents. They must have been so…afraid…so helpless, cold, alone…I don't want to die like that, Hans," she said, clutching him fiercely and staring into his eyes. "I can't."

"You won't," Hans determined insistently. He led Elsa over to a relatively safe place to sit and then began barking orders at the sailers as if he'd been one all his life. "Why are you doing that?" he asked one of them critically. "You know better than that." Hans corrected the way the sailer was attempting to right the vessel and then assisted the men with finding a better way to clear the water off the deck. This went on for at least an hour, with Elsa staring in numb disbelief, her hair dripping with water that blurred her vision of Hans working ceaselessly to save them.

When the storm gradually began to calm, Elsa could breathe again. She counted her own heartbeats until the images of her cold, dead parents sinking into the water fled from her mind, saved for another evening's nightmare. When she could tell it was going to be alright, she rose and began making her way back downstairs. With numb fingers, she changed into a dry nightgown. Her expression was blank, her recovery from the rush of terrible anxiety slow but sure.

A light knock sounded at the door, and she pulled it back knowing who she would find waiting there.

"Hans, I can't talk anymore tonight," Elsa said, but she stood back to let him in anyway, not knowing why.

"I don't want to talk," he said huskily. He had also changed into dry apparel, but his hair was damp and brought his handsome, concerned features into sharp relief. His touch as light as air, he reached out to draw her into his arms, and she went willingly, resting her head on his shoulder and feeling waves of residual fear rolling off of her. A tide brought back out to sea by the least likely source of comfort she could have conceptualized until very recently. Now, with the intensity of her feelings for Hans growing stronger, Elsa could hardly be surprised at her reaction. Still, she forced herself to pull back slightly as his hand cupped her face. His finger caressed her lips, causing her to shudder and jolt back further.

"I'm sorry," Hans said quietly. "It won't happen again." He turned to leave as if resigned to the end of any such assignation between them.

"Hans," Elsa blurted out impulsively, "it isn't that. It's not that I don't…that I don't want…it's just that this can never be. You know that. This can never be," she repeated.

"Are you trying to convince yourself?" Hans asked. His arms were folded but he was more melancholy than accusatory.

"Yes!" Elsa admitted with a bitter laugh. "Obviously! Hans, can you imagine what the people of Arendelle would say, how my sister would feel, if I, if you and I—"

"Truly, Elsa, I've never known you to have trouble putting a sentence together," Hans said a little sharply, as if her words, though halting and confused, cut him to the quick. "I do know all of that. But I want to know, I _need_ to know, what you would do if there were no one else involved except you and me."

"You know that too," Elsa said boldly. "I guess there's little we don't know about each other now."

"Who would have ever thought it possible," Hans mused, sitting down on her bed and looking at down at his hands, half-folded and listless in his lap.

"Listen," Elsa entreated, "We'll have to find a way to be friends. That alone is enough to throw Arendelle into a state of perpetual confusion!" She tried to laugh but it sounded hollow rather than jovial.

"Right," Hans said slowly, ironically, "Because that will work."

"No, I mean it," she insisted. "And another thing: you have to stop saving me."

"Yes, I'll get right on that. As seldom as you need saving, your majesty, I hardly think the opportunity is likely to recur that often. Does it bother you that much? Should I have let you drown?"

Elsa paced around, hugging herself in despairing bewilderment. "Yes, no, I don't know! I mean, of course not, and thank you. But please, you have to stop trying to prove your redemption to me at every turn. I get it, okay?"

Hans stood a little too close and asked, "Why is that such a problem for you? You must know that you're the one who makes me want to be a better man."

"I can't have that responsibility," Elsa said sadly. "You know where that would lead."

"What if," Hans whispered into her hair, one arm lightly touching her waist as she turned away from him reluctantly, "it was just the two of us?"

She turned slightly so that her face was just beneath his, resting her hands against his chest and allowing herself to surrender to the seductive power of his question for just a moment. Within that wisp of time, she'd brought her lips up to brush against his, and instantly felt a shock of electricity pass through her as he returned the kiss, his arms tightening around her. She shivered as his fingers curved around her hips, the gauzy material of her nightgown making it all too easy to feel the heat of his touch. As the kiss deepened, she ran her hands over his broad shoulders, through his wet hair, and down his back, tasting his satisfaction as it mirrored her own so precisely.

Like falling forever in suspended time, with no end or beginning, Elsa was aware that it would be exceptionally easy to let the fall envelop her until she learned about every tiny, delicious iota of happiness that lie therein.

"Hans," she murmured, pulling back slightly so that their faces were still inches apart.

"I like to hear my name on your lips," Hans replied in a suggestive manner that made her want to slap him and grab him by the shirt and cover him with kisses at the same time.

"We can't," she forced herself to say, disconnecting herself from his embrace with a pang of disappointed longing.

"Yes," Hans said, holding his hands up as if in surrender to her sensible decision, though bitterness laced his words. "I heard you the first time." Seeing her face fall, he shrugged helplessly and added, "I'm sorry, Elsa. I'll do as you say, but I won't pretend to like it."

With that, he left, and Elsa sank onto her bed with a heavy sigh. She pulled the blankets up over herself and pressed her damp cheek against the pillow, feeling more alone than ever before. Doing the right thing for her kingdom and for Anna seemed uncommonly woeful. What were the chances that her emotions, when it came to Hans, were just a transitory crush brought on by their being together so often lately? Maybe when she returned to Arendelle and she and Hans were plunged back into separate worlds, her affection and desire would simply dissipate.

 _Maybe_ , Elsa thought, not really believing it for a second, _but somehow, I doubt it._

What, then, was she possibly going to do?


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Cut through the heart, cold and clear**

"I was beginning to fear you'd never come home!" Anna cried, throwing her arms around her sister and warming Elsa with her constant love and welcoming nature.

"I'm here," Elsa reassured her. They stepped back and regarded one another after their long separation. Standing in her own throne room, Elsa thought to herself that it was strange, but endlessly wonderful, to be back. The collision of all her new thoughts, feelings, and memories in the time she had been away with the emotions she associated with home, was intense and filled with friction.

"And," Elsa added happily, "I have the solution for our problem with the Fire Beast." She removed the grimoire page from her travelling coach and showed it to Anna, and to Kristoff, who stood beside his wife, and eagerly stared at the sheet of gilded paper.

"Is that a spell?" Kristoff inquired dubiously, scratching his head. "Can you… _spell_?"

"According to a new friend of ours, who is a witch, I should be able to do the spell. It's just a matter of reciting the words, and with my own magical abilities, the spell should get the necessary power to do the trick." Elsa got carried away with her enthusiasm and lost track of the exact words she was using.

"A new friend of…ours?" Anna asked, confused. She furrowed her brow, and the wheels in Elsa's mind starting moving full speed. This was not the best opportunity to tell Anna about the changes in her relationship with Hans, so Elsa opted for another explanation.

"Well, yes…a friend to Arendelle," Elsa elaborated, taking her sister by the arm. "Now come, we shouldn't waste another minute. It's bad enough that poor Adam has been under the spell for this long."

As the three of them trudged through the snow to the icy dome wherein Adam was caged, Kristoff asked, "So there's really a man in there? How has he survived this?"

"Barely, I imagine," Elsa shuddered, feeling for the ordeal that Marit's fiance had endured at Anders' and Magnus' hands.

Anna's brow furrowed as her eyes narrowed. With her rosy cheeks and freckled nose, she was still the picture of adorable perkiness, but the flash in her green eyes spoke of a darkness that flared when a certain subject entered her mind.

"I can't believe those Southern Isles Princes had the gall to attack us again. After everything we went through with Hans, have they no shame? Clearly, they don't understand who they're meddling with." Anna's hands turned to fists at the mention of Hans' name, which had a different effect on Elsa altogether.

As her cheeks began to burn, Elsa patted Anna on the back and assured her, "We have the situation well in hand. Once Adam is back to normal, Hans can escort him back to the Southern Isles and make sure the situation with Anders and Lars is still secure under Marit and Nina's watch."

"I have so many follow-up questions based on what you just said," Kristoff admitted, stopping short. "You trust Hans with all of _that_? How do you know he won't take advantage of this whole situation to cause more mischief? And how is it that you and Hans have somehow rearranged the monarchy of the Southern Isles?"

"You know about the monarchy of the Southern Isles?" Anna asked Kristoff, her gloved hands resting momentarily on her hips in surprised interest.

"Well, I'm the husband of the Princess of Arendelle, so I thought I should read up on royal matters," Kristoff replied, puffing his chest out a bit. His cheeks were ruddy with pride.

"You are so cute," Anna declared, kissing him lightly on the lips. Then she turned to Elsa and said," Also, Crazy Town, population 1: Elsa! What are you talking about? Hans this, Hans that? I mean seriously, _what_?"

Elsa sighed, starting to grow impatient already with this uncomfortable situation and the additional bind of feeling rushed and pressured. "Will you two stop yammering on and trust me? I have a plan. I know what I'm doing and how to keep Hans in line."

Anna and Kristoff looked at each other, then back at Elsa. "Okay," Anna agreed, "We'll take your word for it. We trust you."

"Right," Kristoff added with a nod of solidarity intended to bolster everyone's spirits. But the doubt in both pairs of eyes was making Elsa bristle. She squared her shoulders and forged ahead, determined to find a way through all of this confusion somehow.

First things first.

As they arrived at the dome, Elsa pulled out the grimoire page and read the words very slowly, as they were in an ancient and mystical dialect she didn't understand in the least. Yet the more she spoke, the more confident she felt, the more the words rolled from her tongue with ease. A surge of power flowed through her as the dome melted and revealed, where the Fire Beast had been encased, the hunched figure of a man in singed clothing. A strange combination of melting ice and flickering ash was the only evidence of Adam's transformation.

Adam stood in a daze and stared at Anna, Kristoff, and Elsa as if he had never seen them before. "What—what happened to me?" He stammered. He tried to take a few steps forward but staggered. Anna and Kristoff immediately assisted him and they all made their way back to the castle, with the others explaining to Adam all that had occurred since Magnus had spelled him. Adam had no memory of the transformation, or of attacking Arendelle.

"Marit…where is Marit?" Adam asked falteringly as he sank into a chair before a warm fire in one of the castle's coziest sitting rooms. The firelight danced in his blue eyes, which were huge with worry. He was entirely overwhelmed by the shock of these revelations.

"She's back in the Southern Isles waiting for you," Elsa said softly, soothingly. "We have a guide who will bring you to her."

"Then I am immeasurably grateful," Adam told them, sitting up as if he was ready to leave that moment.

"I will tell Hans to prepare for the journey to begin first thing in the morning," Elsa said, rising to leave. "You need a good night's sleep first," she insisted.

"I'll come with you," Anna decided, standing next to her sister with an inscrutable expression. Elsa scanned her features curiously. Was Anna feeling…curious, suspicious, worried, afraid, angry? A combination of all of these? Elsa didn't know exactly, but she had a bad feeling about this.

Hans' eyes lit up excitedly as he saw Elsa entering the simple chamber he'd been given for the night, in a villager's cottage nearby the castle gates.

But his face fell slightly when he saw who accompanied her, and he immediately dropped to a respectful bow. "Princess Anna," he said in all seriousness.

"What's all this about?" Anna wondered, gaping at Hans' behavior. "What kind of game are you playing, Hans?"

"I'm not playing any game, I assure you," Hans vowed. "As your sister can tell you, I've changed. I am not the man I was, the man who treated you so abominably — for which behavior, I'm infinitely sorry."

"Right," Anna said acidly, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest. "Elsa, don't tell me you've fallen for this nonsense. He can't change. He'll never change. He's a lying, cruel, manipulative, relentless, power-hungry, lying—"

"You said lying once already," Hans reminded Anna with a small smile.

"Well let me say it a third time," Anna said through gritted teeth. "He _lies._ " She practically spat the words as she stepped in front of Hans with an accusatory expression.

"Alright, that's enough," Elsa interrupted, stepping between them and pressing a hand gently against her sister's outstretched arm, which seemed prepared to repeat the mean right hook she'd displayed two years ago, when she had taken her revenge for Hans' trickery.

"I've travelled with Hans these several weeks, and we have been on a journey which was…challenging, to say the very least," Elsa explained calmly. "In that time, as we pieced together the truth of Anders' plans and everyone effected by them, we faced many risks. Hans saved my life on three separate occasions."

"What?" Anna asked in a strangely hollow voice.

"Three times," Elsa reiterated. "He had three chances to let me die, and all three times, he chose to risk himself to keep me safe." In her mind's eye, she saw the scenes again. She felt the rapid beat of his heart as he held her in his arms for the first time, after pulling her away from the avalanche. She saw him halting Anders' blade and fighting his brother with all of his strength and skill. And Elsa remembered the way Hans had fought to keep that ship in one piece as the sky and ocean strove to rip it to shreds. The warmth of understanding shone in her eyes and in Hans' as they inevitably recalled all that they had been through together. But the more their feelings shimmered, struggling free from their fetters of repression, the tighter Anna's lips pressed, the more her eyes glistened with irritation.

"Well, he obviously did those things because you'd promised to reduce his work sentence duration," Anna concluded with a sweep of her cloak as she moved to the door. "If you seriously expect him to take Adam back to Marit and then keep the evil Princes of the Southern Isles from brewing up more trouble, then all I can say is good luck. As far as I'm concerned, the sooner Hans is back milking cows, the better for all of us."

"Except the cows," Anna added, and though there was, of course, the unintentional humor her words often contained, Elsa knew how deadly serious her sister was about never believing Hans could change. Anna huffed off, clearly not wanting to be in Hans' presence a moment longer, but unwilling to interfere with Elsa's plans when her sister was so determined.

An awkward compromise of emotions and necessity had been struck between Anna and Elsa, and Elsa knew how shaky it truly was.

The silence between Hans and Elsa loomed large in Anna's absence. Hans stepped forward and took Elsa's hands in his own. "I'm sorry about that," he began somewhat reductively.

Elsa didn't know what it was. The way the firelight flickered over Hans' expression, which was so entirely earnest as to shock anyone who'd known him in the past. The warm press of his fingers, a sensation that hadn't left her thoughts since that night on the ship, when they were so briefly free. Or was it the utter pointlessness of the hope she'd been nurturing that there was some chance for them to be together despite all that had happened before? The combination of sweet and bitter was by turns dizzying, exhilarating, and exhausting. But something drew her nearer.

When it came to Hans, Elsa suspected that something would always draw her in.

She stroked his face, running her fingers lightly over it as his eyes burned a new hole in her soul. "I'm sorry, too," she whispered, pressing her mouth haltingly to his as they exchanged the briefest of breaths. Too brief, too stolen, too doomed.

"When you come back," Elsa said, holding onto his arms as if to hold herself upright, "You'll have to go back to your labor. You still have time left to serve. And I'll return to my queenly duties."

"We won't see each other anymore," Hans predicted sadly, softly.

"No," Elsa confirmed, swallowing back a tide of tears.

"I know why," Hans said, resigned. "I mean, I understand completely. I know all the reasons. And I have no one to blame but myself. But are you sure? Are you really sure?"

Elsa nodded slowly. "Yes, I'm sure. Now, go, before I have another fit of insanity." She laughed but it jangled sharp and jagged in her ears.

"We wouldn't want that," Hans agreed with an answering smile of melancholy, patting her cheek and stepping back to allow for her exit.

"Goodbye, Hans," Elsa said as she lifted the hood of her blue cloak and let its velvet folds partially shroud her heartbroken expression.

Hans eyes shone with thousands of unspoken pleas as he nodded, "Goodbye, your majesty."


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Hans' Return**

"Well, I think the time has come!" Anna declared in a chipper tone over breakfast one morning about two weeks after Hans and Adam had departed for the Southern Isles.

"And what time is that?" Elsa asked with affectionate but distracted warmth, glancing out the window as the melting ice continued its slow but steady descent. Winter was ending and Spring was on its way.

"Well…" Anna said again, her tone as slow and unsure as the trickling water that was rolling off of the rooftops from the thickest icicles. "I was speaking with Chancellor Carston, and he mentioned to me that the council of advisors is beginning to grow more curious about when you—" Anna pointed playfully at Elsa with a wink —"Are going to choose a husband."

Elsa grimaced. "A _husband_?" The word tasted sour in her mouth. "Why? What for?" She returned to her cinnamon-topped porridge with feigned new interest, trying to avoid this subject the moment it was introduced.

"The people of Arendelle generally feel safest and most secure with a king _and_ a queen," Anna explained, pulling a piece of her chocolate muffin off with a motion intended to seem casual, but one that only betrayed the nervousness she felt mentioning this topic to Elsa.

"You mean, they feel safer with a man on the throne instead of just a woman," Elsa proclaimed grumpily. She began mixing her porridge up a bit violently.

"Hey, what did that breakfast ever do to you?" Kristoff asked slyly, trying to lesson the tension that filled the air all too plainly. It didn't work.

"I'm not sure that's it," Anna replied, "And you can't seriously think that's the way _I_ see it, either. I mean, come _on_ , have we met? I think it's just that, to the council, anyway, and to the people, it feels more…whole, more complete…to have both monarchs ruling."

Elsa sighed so heavily that the strands of hair framing her face flew upwards. "What does the council have in mind?"

"A ball," Anna said with unconcealed excitement, "to which all of the eligible male nobles will be invited, and you can meet them all, and—"

"No," Elsa declared frostily, standing up and beginning to pace the room. "No, no, no, no."

"But you deserve to meet someone, to have romance," Anna attempted, but it was futile. Of course, she couldn't understand that Elsa had done both of those things, only to find that it, too, was futile.

"Since it'll never be on my own terms anyway, I suppose I may as well surrender to this absurd tradition," Elsa fumed, squeezing her eyes shut to keep her powers in check. It would be all to easy to let a stray flurry ease her frustration.

"Elsa, I had no idea this would upset you so much," Anna said, striding over to put an arm around Elsa's stiff shoulders. "I'm sorry I even suggested going along with their plan. To be honest, I thought it would be kind of fun…I thought maybe you were lonely lately, that you'd like a chance to find love. I guess I just got carried away."

"No, it's not your fault," Elsa relented, resting her head on Anna's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it seem like I was blaming you. It's just one more reminder that my life isn't my own."

"I hate that you feel that way," Anna said sadly, then brightened up to try and lift Elsa's spirits. "Let's just forget about it, find something fun to do today."

Elsa swallowed back her vast reserve of confused and darkening feelings, smiling for her sister's sake.

Kristoff, who'd been tense with the awkwardness of the scene, breathed a sigh of relief and began attacking his breakfast with renewed vigor. He never had gotten used to the opulence of their meals, and it was fairly adorable — as adorable as his often quiet support and concern for Anna as well as Elsa.

"Let's have the ball, for appearance's sake anyway," Elsa decided, resigned. "I want the people to be happy, to feel I'm making an effort. And like you said, it'll be…fun." She didn't believe it for a moment.

"Oooh, a ball!" Anna exclaimed merrily. "Can we have a chocolate fountain?"

"Don't we always?" Elsa grinned.

Later that morning, when Elsa was in her private sitting room, the mail arrived, with a substantial pile of royal business and social or charitable invitations for her to attend to. On the bottom of the heap was a worn-looking bundle of papers wrapped with a frayed cord. Elsa immediately shoved the other letters aside and ripped into this one.

The first letter was a lengthy account, in Hans' hand, of all that had occurred since he had returned Adam to Arendelle. There had been another upheaval, orchestrated by Hans' father, who tried to release Anders and Lars to reinstate Anders as the head of state. Apparently, even from his sickbed, the King was well capable of causing considerable mischief — just as Hans had warned.

Hans, Nils, and Marit had been able to subdue the uprising of Anders' followers and protect Princess Nina's claim to the throne while reminding the King that Anders and Lars were murderous loose canons. However, since the King remained firm in his convictions as to who should rule in his stead during his continued illness, Hans was sure it would be a constant battle to keep order in the Southern Isles in the foreseeable future.

Adam and Marit were happily reunited, and she was settling into a new role as magical court advisor. Hans ended his letter by explaining that since Nina could call upon the help of Nils and Marit, as well as Elsa's own assistance from Arendelle as needed, he was now able to return and finish out his work sentence.

Segueing seamlessly from complete seriousness to dry wit as was his habit, Hans added a post-script for Elsa not to forget she had promised to eventually instill him in a job that would be to his liking, and that all the cows of Arendelle would be endlessly grateful to her for extricating him from farm work once his time had been served.

Shaking her head, her small smile tinged with sadness, Elsa marveled at Hans' sincerity and unwavering insistence on finishing his sentence when she obviously would have pretended to mysteriously forget his absence, had he decided to stay on in the Southern Isles. Without saying as much, he was proving something to her, and even to Anna, who would never notice or care that Hans was trying to be honorable.

There was another small slip of paper enclosed within the longer letter, and now Elsa gently unfolded it. The contents were only a few words, but they sent a thrill coursing through her that could not be denied. She ran her fingers over the words again and again, alone with the pounding of her heart, the quickening of her breath.

 _I miss you._

— _H._

Hans returned to his farm work in Arendelle with a powerful new motivation. Somehow, he'd managed to convince himself that if he could just show everyone that he was capable of keeping his word, working honestly and hard, it would bring him one step closer to what he could never touch. A dream that could never be more than a whisper of a hope despite his self-deceiving enthusiasm. The idea that somehow, he and Elsa could be together.

He couldn't help a bitter laugh at his own audacity in indulging such fantasies, as he labored day and night with nothing but haphazard scraps to eat, served up by the disgusted farmers who still thought of him as the Queen's would-be assassin. The irony was so painful that it almost became funny, but it was too real even for that.

On a windy afternoon a few weeks after his return, one of the farmer's children came ambling into the barn, scowling at Hans and whipping a folded envelope from his pocket. "This is for you, traitor," said the child. He was a boy of about twelve, and clearly a firm believer in everything his parents taught him. Again, Hans had no recourse. What other treatment could he expect? He'd known what he was signing up for by coming back.

But it cut him to the quick when the lad tossed the small, smooth letter into the mud. The ice had melted recently and created a vast moat-like reservoir of the stuff, and Hans had to scramble to retrieve the envelope before it was completely destroyed. The boy laughed harshly as he walked away.

After rolling his eyes at his bad luck and then rather desperately attempting to clear the mud from the letter, Hans sat on the fence outside the barn to peruse its contents.

Elsa had written, in an artificially formal manner, to invite him to the palace that afternoon. She said that she had determined, after careful thought, to waive the remainder of his labor sentence in favor of placing him in a job more suited to his talents. Elsa was careful to explain that her reason was based on the help he had rendered in their recent adventures in the Southern Isles, and Hans got the idea that the decision had been explained painstakingly to her council of advisors.

Hans would never admit that anything could make him giddy, but the letter did drive him into a state of excitement such as he had rarely felt. He quickly pulled himself together, cleaning up and changing into his best clothes, such as they were. Telling the farmers of his royal summons, he hastened to the palace.

After the cold, resentful glares of every guard and noble in the palace had been bestowed upon him during his journey through the gates and across the main hall to Elsa's throne room, Hans was again growing a bit exhausted with the sheer impact of this level of hatred the people of Arendelle had for him.

Hans' pride barely covered his brow-beaten feelings, but his spirits lifted when the door was opened to reveal Elsa, _his_ Elsa, he thought, keeping the idea locked away in silence, where it was safe. He held himself back from rushing to her, holding her, speaking ardent words that wanted to tumble from his tongue. Instead, he bowed.

"Your majesty," Hans began, "I come in response to your summons."

"Ah yes," Elsa said, outwardly seeming for all the word as if she had half-remembered that he was even due to arrive, but the slight lift of her eyebrow and the tiny smile she let slip were meant for him, and him alone. "Prince Hans, allow me to introduce you to Adrian Geir." A middle-aged man with a dignified appearance and calm expression stepped forward to shake Hans' hand.

"Pleased to meet you, sir," Hans greeted him, surprised at even the mildest of civilities these days.

Adrian merely nodded, leaving Elsa to explain the introduction.

"Adrian is in charge of catering to all of the best social events here in Arendelle," Elsa explained, "And he has agreed to hire you, effective immediately."

"Ah," Hans replied slowly, cupping his chin in thought. "Your majesty, might I have the briefest of words?"

"Alright," Elsa agreed, "If you will excuse us, Adrian, I will send Prince Hans right out to you so that he can get acquainted with his new duties, within a few minutes."

Adrian merely bowed to Elsa and left swiftly.

"Catering?" Hans asked, "I thought you said it was a position more suited to my talents."

"Well," Elsa replied, perched on her throne with perfect posture, a regal elegance that came naturally to her, "It isn't farm work, is it? Your work sentence is at an end. You are free to make your living and make something of yourself."

"Thank you?" Hans smirked, folding his hands behind his back. "You do realize that every time some party-goer sees me restocking the cheese and crackers, they'll be horrified. I'm not exactly popular around here."

"Then _show_ them," Elsa said eagerly, leaning forward. Her blue eyes sparkled with the clarity of her belief in this plan of hers. "Don't hide in the shadows, Hans. Come out into the light and let them see that you have changed, that instead of running away, you're here, facing the consequences for your actions and making an honest attempt at a second chance."

Cautiously, he came a little closer. "I think you're well aware that you could talk me into anything you wanted."

"So you'll try?" Elsa asked happily, practically jumping from her seat and meeting him in the middle of the room. They were so close, but no part of them touched. Hans was acutely aware of the torture of this proximity, and felt haunted by the question of whether she felt it too. Had she simply accepted that they were impossible, or did she see another path for them to take if he could prove his redemption?

Finally, he took her hands in his own for just a moment, touching her fingers to his heart. "I will try," he promised, "for you."

"You should do it for yourself," Elsa entreated, a slight touch of humor failing to mask her concern.

"You're right, Elsa," Hans admitted with a nod, making a bow before his departure. "But I'm going to do it for you.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Let it go**

The dress was beautiful, without question. It was a confection of draped, sheer silver layers that cascaded down from a snug-fitting dove grey bodice, and it laced in the back with shining ribbons. Elsa had to admit that there was something about this gown that seemed to whisper about possibilities, an evening filled with romance and being swept off of her feet and all that.

So. It was too bad that this evening was merely an uncomfortable obligation, that she'd be forced to dance with numerous suitors she had no intention of marrying, and that the only man she _wante_ d to sweep her off her feet was the one she could never have.

Elsa twirled slightly as she gazed blankly into the mirror. She did like the way the material of the dress blew around in a lovely, shimmering cloud of silver with her every motion.

"Elsa, you look amazing!" Anna breathed, entering the room looking gorgeous herself in a deep purple gown, her hair swept into a complicated pile of auburn curls, interwoven with matching ribbons.

"No, _you_ look amazing," Elsa demurred, grinning at her sister's predictable enthusiasm about a ball. There was nothing Anna enjoyed more.

Sometimes, Elsa wondered if it would have been easier if Anna had been the elder sister, the destined Queen of Arendelle. She was so much more merry and sociable. But then again, as Queen, she'd have had to fight to be allowed to marry Kristoff, a commoner. Nothing about this royal life seemed to offer easy solutions, even in hypothetical pondering.

"You don't understand," Anna explained, circling her sister and taking in the full effect of the gown. "You actually look like this is the night you're going to meet the love of your life. There's this crazy air of _destiny_ around you!" Anna cocked her head to one side and reconsidered her words before hastily adding, "Of course, I know this whole ball to find a suitor thing is just for show and based on a totally insulting patriarchal tradition, but you know…"

"Yes," Elsa smiled gently. She patted the sleek chignon that held her hair in place and nervously gave her diamond bracelet a few quick turns.

"Kristoff is _so_ mad that he had to wear a purple vest and tie to match me," Anna divulged as they made their way to the ballroom.

"At last, a reason why this ball might be worthwhile," Elsa winked.

"Don't forget about the chocolate!" Anna reminded her as they entered the lavish room with its opulent pink and silver decorations, the many tables laden with food and drink, and a vast crowd of party-goers chatting amongst themselves as the string quartet set up on the stage.

Elsa made her way to the middle of the room as the crowd opened to provide her a passage, eventually creating a circle of people that surrounded her with their admiring murmurs and kind words of welcome. All of the council members were lined up in their seats against one wall, looking so smug that Elsa felt tempted to tell them what she _really_ thought of their idea about her marrying. At the front of the room stood a line of young men dressed to the nines, their hands neatly folded and their faces expectant. A faint air of competition rippled among them.

 _The suitors_ , Elsa realized, striving to remain calm and keep her irritation and nerves from showing. Graciously, she strode in their direction, and upon reaching their vicinity, swept into a neat curtsey by way of greeting.

One of them, the quickest thinker of the bunch, immediately stepped forward to kiss her hand with great ceremony. "Your majesty," said Councilor Carston, "This is Prince Michael of the kingdom of Regalla."

Prince Michael released Elsa's hand and bowed deeply. "May I have the honor of this dance?"

He was comely enough, with his brown hair and eyes and his perfectly symmetrical features, and it was clear that he held Elsa in the highest esteem. However, as they danced, Elsa felt the burden of his extreme respect as an impediment to any interesting conversation. Whenever Elsa asked a question, Michael automatically deflected it to suggest his opinion on the topic was whatever _she_ would prefer.

Then again, when she experienced the conversational style of her next partner, Sir Randall, Elsa wished she was still dancing with Prince Michael, who while dull was at least considerate and polite. Sir Randall seemed to think that flirtation and aggression went hand in hand, and as he took the lead, he pulled her closer than she felt comfortable with. She pulled back and repositioned them with a pointed look that Randall seemed to take no notice of. He spent the rest of the dance making announcements of everything they would do when they were married one day, the laws they would change, the children they would have, the vacations they would take. Elsa _accidentally_ stepped on his feet for most of the dance and took a quiet satisfaction every time he winced.

Her third partner, Prince Ulrich, seemed to think conversation was a waste of time, but staring rudely at his dancing companion was entirely appropriate. Elsa was making the best of the situation by enjoying the comparative peace after her time with Sir Randall, but scarcely had she started to slightly relax when she caught sight of Hans, standing from the edge of the dance floor.

He wore a plain white catering uniform, his hair slicked back neatly and everything about his appearance suggestive of a simple, common-place waiter. That is, except for the fact that he was easily the most handsome man in the room. Elsa processed her burst of joy and anxiety at seeing him just in time to notice that Hans, who was loading a large silver tray with empty champagne flutes, did not look happy to see her. Far from it.

In fact, he looked angry. Elsa realized that she'd never seen him angry before. She'd seen Hans in the throes of so many emotions and impulses, from his selfish and manipulative times to his redemptive moments of bravery or tenderness. But never before had she glimpsed that intense glare she noticed plainly now, as Hans pulled his eyes from hers and disdainfully left the room.

"Thanks for the dance," she murmured hurriedly to Prince Ulrich, not caring that the song was only half-over. As the Prince's expression shifted from intent scrutiny to confusion, Elsa made as subtle an exit as she could and headed for the palace kitchen.

Hans was standing with his back to her, rearranging food on platters, and since all of the other waitstaff were on their way out of the room with more items to serve the crowd, they found themselves alone.

"Hans," she began apprehensively, willing him to turn and face her.

"Why did you give me this job?" he asked tersely. Oh, yes, he was mad.

"Because I knew you didn't care for the life of a farmer, and this was a more pleasant line of work where you could still prove your intention of regaining your honor," Elsa said smoothly, lightly, traipsing over well-rehearsed words crafted by her sense of duty.

"And if I have to come here and see you dancing with other men whom you might marry, that's perfectly fine with you?" Hans bristled.

"It's not perfectly fine with _me_ that I have to dance with them in the first place," Elsa explained. "I only do it to make a show of good faith to the people of Arendelle that I will one day marry."

"Why can't you be honest with me, even when there's no one else here?" Hans asked, gesturing around at the temporarily abandoned kitchen.

"Fine!" Elsa burst out, seething all of a sudden. Why was he doing this to her? "You want to know why I got you the job, Hans? Because I couldn't stand to think of you living that grim life, alone and hated. So I got you a position where you could at least be comfortable and earn some respect. I'm sorry I bothered now!"

"And that's all there is to it?" Hans asked, crossing his arms.

"Of course not!" Elsa exclaimed, caring less and less if someone heard. It was all she could do to keep her powers in check as her frustration grew. "If I can't be honest with you, it's because it hurts to tell you the truth. To tell you that I gave you the job to keep you near me. So that I could _see_ you every once in a while. Even tonight, when I'm trapped in this fake situation that I hate! Happy now?"

"No," Hans said, pacing and fuming. "I'm not happy, Elsa. I'm not happy that when I walk into a room you're in, I want to go to you, talk to you, touch you, hold you, but I can't. So I have to stand there like an idiot, nodding and smiling while some buffoon twirls you around the dance floor."

"You didn't even _attempt_ to nod and smile," Elsa corrected, trying to push aside the rush of warmth already rushing to her cheeks at his words about what he wished to do.

"That's right," Hans admitted, getting too close for comfort as their eyes met fully. "There you are, swanning around with these other men who have a chance to maybe, someday be with you. The whole evening is constructed around the idea of you finding someone to love, someone to _marry_."

"Well, I don't want to—" Elsa began, but he cut her off.

"I know," Hans allowed, "I know that you don't want to be here, that you're going through the motions for your people, that you live for them. And of course, I know that the reason I have no chance to court you is my own fault, for my past crimes and unbelievable stupidity. It's a simple collision of your selflessness and my selfishness.

But I think you're missing the point, Elsa. I'm not angry because I'm a waiter instead of a Prince or a soldier, or because of anything that's even remotely your fault. I'm angry because _I_ want to be the one dancing with you. _I_ love you! _I_ want to marry you!"

His eyes were blazing with so much emotion that Elsa felt utterly unable to reply. Her body seemed as still and stuck as it had been under Lars' power. The words he'd spoken were the most passionate and shocking ones ever addressed to her by anyone.

"I know," he relented at last, as her silence continued, "It's absurd. It seems more absurd than ever when I say it out loud. Please, forget I said anything. Enjoy your evening, your majesty." So much bitterness dripped from his words that Elsa was again mute and awestruck. He brushed past her, sending a thousand shivers running up and down her spine.

She returned to the ballroom with a heavy heart sinking in her chest and sat quietly in her throne, staring down at her hands, which were shaking slightly. She realized that the sensation didn't come from fear or anger, but rather from a desire fighting so hard against her every sensible defense that she couldn't help but tremble.

Anna and Kristoff were dancing merrily, the latter not entirely successful in his attempt to remember everything he'd been taught in ballroom class. They laughed so hard that Elsa could hear them over the sweet music that suddenly seemed to be _sickly_ sweet, nauseating and oppressive. The music urging her to be true to her duty.

"Your majesty?" Councilor Carston inquired, "Are you quite well?"

Elsa scanned the room, noticing all of the suitors gathered still in their sector, chatting amongst themselves. Were they gossiping, establishing solidarity or competition, laying odds as to who had the best chance at her hand in marriage? She saw her beautiful, kind, joyous subjects filling the room with their excited chatter, steaming plates passed around the tables as children ran across the dance floor dropping chocolates and cookies in their wake. A whole world of satisfied jubilation, and another one meant only for obligation. She had been shoved so hard into the latter realm that she wanted to scream.

Suddenly, she stood, looking around quickly until she saw a scowling Hans, his arms laden with trays covered in used dishes, preparing to leave the room again. She made a beeline in his direction, observers be damned. She heard Councilor Carston calling after her and didn't care.

Hans had made a rapid path through the kitchen, where he'd left the trays and made off down one of the dimly candlelit hallways, finally slipping into a finely appointed art gallery as if his intention was to clear his mind for a few minutes. She did not intend to make it that easy for him.

Scarcely had Hans even had time to notice her entrance into the room when Elsa launched herself into his arms, grabbing his face in her hands and kissing him with shameless abandon. He didn't hesitate even for a beat, but kissed her back so searingly that she felt she might melt away on the spot. Elsa sighed and tangled her fingers in his hair, making no argument as he pulled her closer, tighter. Then he moved back slightly so that he could really look at her as strands of white-blonde hair fell loose around her face, her carefully constructed bun no match for the ardor of this moment. Still staring intently into her wide, pleading eyes, Hans ran a finger slowly along her jawbone, over her lips, until she could barely breathe, and certainly had no defenses left in place.

It was a moment that seemed frozen in time except that their faces started to get closer and closer again, their breaths coming heavy, full of anticipation. Just as their lips were about to touch once more, a voice interrupted them.

"Elsa!" Anna exclaimed in a huff, her hands perched on her hips. Her face was red with anger and disbelief. An aghast Kristoff stood beside her, his mouth open in shock. "What in the world is going on?"


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Aftermath**

Elsa's heart felt it would burst with misery for just a moment at the look on Anna's face. But she took a deep breath and stepped forward, willing the feelings of disgrace that Anna seemed to compel upon her to flee. They weren't warranted.

"Anna, we can explain," Elsa began as calmly as possible.

"I doubt that," Anna retorted.

"What she said," Kristoff seconded.

"Anna, Kristoff, this isn't what you think it is," Hans tried to put in. "I truly love Elsa."

"Hans!" Elsa whisper-screamed, elbowing him lightly. Those feelings were still so fresh from their first confession. She needed time to curl up in a ball in her bed later and whisper them to herself before she could believe what was happening to her. To feel the warm tendrils of happiness continue to spread from within her heart at the sound of them.

Now word would spread far and wide of her romance with Hans, and the people of Arendelle were not going to be pleased. All before she could enjoy this little wisp of contentment, this excitement of forbidden possibility.

Anna marched forward and seized Elsa lightly by the arm, pulling her away from Hans.

"You do realize he told me the same thing, right?" Anna asked fiercely, "And you also remember that time he planned to marry you so he could rule Arendelle? Then marry me when you seemed unapproachable? And let's not forget that he tried to murder you. That's the part I always find interesting." Anna was an inferno of rage with an unflappable determination to dissuade Elsa from trusting Hans.

"He's changed, Anna. He isn't that person anymore." Elsa said the words simply and quietly, and wasn't too distracted to notice the small smile of gratitude Hans shot at her. His eyes looked exhausted with the burden of his past wrongs.

"Look, why don't we just cut to the chase and let me lift this creep up by the shoulders and throw him out the front door?" Kristoff asked irritably. Hans' past conduct towards Anna had guaranteed that Kristoff would do anything necessary to protect her and Elsa from someone he considered an irredeemable villain.

"That won't be necessary," Hans announced, "I'm going."

"I'll come and find you later," Elsa promised, the words springing from her heart instinctively.

"No you won't!" Anna scolded.

"Yes," Elsa said, turning back to her sister and crossing her arms. "I will, Anna. I'm sorry you had to find out about it this way, and I'm sorry for how…scary and messy this all is. But I also don't know what it's going to take to get you to trust me enough that you believe what I say about Hans."

Anna blinked at Elsa in confusion. "Elsa, it's not that I don't trust you…"

"Alright then," Elsa replied, smoothing her hair back from her face and squaring her shoulders against this latest challenge. "If that's true, then in spite of the past, I'm asking you to show me that you do. Think about it, please."

Her voice trembled despite her attempt at a more confident stature. The last thing Elsa wanted to do was show the least bit of shame or fear about her feelings for Hans. That would merely serve to prove that Anna's worst worries held water. Still, the whirlwind of conflicting emotions she was going through was more than she could bear without showing her rarely-glimpsed vulnerability.

Anna didn't reply, but stood regarding her sister with sad, searching eyes, a look that pleaded for Elsa to use her common sense and wake up to Hans' evil nature, while regretting that this was driving a wedge between them.

Elsa shook her head, overcome by the impossibility of the situation, and left the room.

She left the castle as soon as the ball was ended and made for Hans' humble cottage dwelling in the village.

"I'm sorry," Hans said as soon as he let her in. Elsa descended to the warm, softly shaggy rug before the vividly burning fireplace, the flames reflecting the mixture of happiness and sadness warring in her eyes.

"We both knew this was coming, if we were going to keep on…" Hans' voice drifted off as he sat down beside her, their fingers automatically interlacing. "But still, it was even worse than I expected. I'm—"

"Don't say it again," Elsa entreated, lying down and stretching her arms out, feeling the tension draining from her muscles. "I'm not sorry." She gazed up at Hans' perplexed, serious face as he hovered over her in intense concern. "I feel what I feel for you, what I've never felt for anyone before…and I can't regret that. We'll find a way to deal with the consequences."

Hans lowered himself so that he was even closer, stroking her cheek tenderly. "But Elsa, there shouldn't have to be consequences for you, just because you care for someone. You deserve so much better than that. Better than me," he amended bitterly and sounding certain, averting his eyes.

Elsa tilted his chin back towards her. "That's not for you to decide," she reminded him.

Something about her affectionately bossy gesture put the sparkle back in his eyes. "Well, don't I get a say about anything?"

"When you're loved by a queen, getting to make your own life decisions is a rare privilege," Elsa replied with a wink, noticing how he was taken aback by her honest confession of love, cloaked but not obscured by her nervous joke. "But there's one thing you can decide," she added.

"And what is that?" Hans inquired softly, huskily, still amazed by what she had said.

She pressed her hands against his strong chest, running her hand over it to feel his rapid heartbeat.

"Whether or not I can stay here tonight," Elsa replied quietly, trembling slightly at the temptation his nearness suggested.

"Elsa," Hans answered in a bit of a fluster, clearly shocked, "I would never expect…I mean, don't you think it's too…"

"Too soon? Too scandalous? Too forbidden? Too insane?" Elsa winked again, standing up and making her way to his bed, where she turned down the blankets and sat down, patting the pillows with a smile. "The cat's already out of the bag, Hans."

"But Elsa, when we…I want it to be under different circumstances…I was hoping that…" Hans seemed to keep running into brick walls that prevented him from finishing his sentences.

"When we what, Hans? I'm only talking about sleeping. But if your arms happen to end up around me, you won't hear me complaining. I'm incredibly tired, aren't you?" She kicked her shoes off and snuggled down under the covers, savoring the sensation of Hans' surprise, piqued interest, confused insistence on honor, and slightly irritated amusement that practically crackled in the air.

A short, annoyed laugh was all that Hans let out as he slid into bed beside her. "I give up," he muttered, closing his eyes and sighing in irresistible contentment as their warm embrace instantly promised to sweep them away into a deep slumber.

"Good," Elsa answered with a smile.

She woke with a contented sigh the next morning, fully aware of how comfortable warm, plain sheets could be compared with the cold silk ones she slept on alone at the palace. Hans was no longer beside her, but she could hear muttering and smelled smoke coming from his tiny kitchen, so she got up to investigate.

Elsa pulled her cloak around her like a bathrobe and did her best to suppress a giggle at the sight of Hans' very labored attempt to make eggs and toast, which were causing him to curse and wave his singed fingers around grumpily.

"I heard that giggle," Hans accused, scowling down at the blackened mess in the pan before him.

"It was very sweet of you to try to make breakfast," Elsa grinned, turning off the stove and taking the glass of orange juice he offered glumly. She sipped the fresh-squeezed drink, trying not to choke on it when she saw the dilapidated pile of orange peels he'd left strewn all over the place.

"Delicious," she murmured happily, leaning in for a kiss.

"That makes it all worthwhile," Hans admitted, "Even if you did call me sweet."

"That was a little strange, wasn't it?" Elsa winked. "I have an idea."

She slid her feet back into her shoes and told Hans to wait for her. Venturing out into the bright, sunny morning, Elsa found what she was looking for soon enough, and went practically dancing back into the cottage. Hans sat at the table, staring at a steaming mug of terrible-smelling coffee when she came in with a basket filled with splendidly fresh rolls and berries.

"A good idea," Hans affirmed, "and let's remember that the next time I try to cook."

Halfway through their meal, their blissful haze of togetherness was interrupted by a loud knock on the door, after which one of the palace guards came charging into Hans' cottage.

"Really," Elsa sighed, shaking her head, "You can go back to the castle and tell Princess Anna that I'm perfectly safe and capable of making my own decisions."

The guard didn't look judgmental or even confused, but rather, overcome by dread and worry. "Your highness, I cannot do any such thing, for your sister was kidnapped last night."

Blades of ice flew from Elsa's fingers and shattered violently against the wooden floor. "What?" she demanded. "If this happened last night, why am I only hearing of it now?"

"The princess' consort only learned of the fact himself this morning. It seems that your sister spent the late night hours pacing the castle, and her husband fell asleep eventually. It was during this time that she was taken."

Elsa stared searchingly at Hans, seeing her own desperation for answers reflected in his intelligent expression, the questions and answers he pondered glittering in his eyes.

"There's every chance this has something to do with my family," Hans determined, snatching up his coat. He turned to the guard as if he had never stopped being a Prince, as if he had never been branded a criminal and banished from his own land to become an indentured worker in another. With the utmost confidence and seriousness, Hans ordered the solider, "Prepare horses and everything else we will need for a day's travel. We must leave for the Southern Isles at once."

"Are you that sure?" Elsa asked, nodding to the guard to confirm her agreement with Hans' orders.

"This is so thoroughly evil and cruel, so manipulative, that it smacks of no one more than my father and Anders. I don't know how they managed to overcome Marit as well as Nils, but…I'm almost certain. The chance is too likely not to investigate."

Elsa nodded, choking back a sob at the thought of her argument with Anna and how it had kept sister her up all night, restless and unhappy. While she herself had indulged in her love for Hans…

"Don't do that," Hans said, quickly understanding everything Elsa felt. "Anna's kidnapping is no one's fault but my family's. Let's go get her back — you have to stop blaming yourself and steel yourself instead for a battle, and to have your wits and powers at their sharpest."

Elsa took strength from Hans' iron will, his uncanny ability to know everything in her heart with a single glance. "You're right," she decided, bolstering her courage. "Let's go." 


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: There's beauty and there's danger here**

"Why would they take Anna?" Elsa wondered aloud as they made their way to the gates of the Southern Isles. Life, in all of its myriad confusions, was starting to seem like a panicked blur. Looking ahead, she saw that the entrance to Hans' homeland had recently been fortified by numerous and enormous extra guards.

Hans stepped down from his horse and crossed over to Elsa to help her descend. Leaving his arms around her for a moment, he murmured, "I fear it's in an attempt to get you to leave Arendelle once more, leaving it vulnerable to their attack. Or perhaps to blackmail you into giving them power over your kingdom by exchanging it for Anna's life. In either case, I know I could never defeat them without you by my side. I'm sorry I couldn't leave you at home, where you would be safe…but of course, I know you would never have stayed." His smile was slight and tinged in grim foreboding, but Elsa managed a small one in return.

"You're right about that. And no matter what I have to do, they aren't going to harm Anna or get my kingdom."

"That's my girl," Hans replied. "Now, how are we going to get in there?" He glanced at the guards, who were scowling at nothing, as if in some bizarre trance of servitude.

"Are you thinking about doing something sneaky?" Elsa inquired with an arch look, knowing that this particular talent of Hans' was all too easy to apply to the situation at hand. And yet…

"I'm not in that kind of mood today," Elsa decided, marching right for the guards. Hans went scrambling after her, but soon recovered his nonchalant bravery.

The guards barely had a moment to register her presence before they lay frozen on the ground.

"Yes, I'm getting that," Hans replied, "Definitely not in a sneaky mood."

Elsa's eyes narrowed as her resolve firmed up even more. She kept her ungloved hands at the ready, and beside her, Hans drew his sword. When they got to the throne room, an unsettlingly familiar scene met their eyes.

Anders was back on the King's throne, Lars standing behind him, ever the frightening source of his brother's security and confidence.

Marit, Nils, and Anna were tied up in chairs to their left, while the old King sat slightly hunched over in another chair to his son's right. Hans' father's appearance was grizzled, his steel-grey hair and beard unruly, his posture slumped and sickly. Yet in his cold eyes there glistened every evidence of wicked power.

"Well, I'd say this is a lovely little family reunion," Hans opened with his old, reliable sarcasm, "but well, that would be a lie. Hi, Dad."

"Hans," the old king croaked, standing with labor from his throne. Lars shot to his father's side to offer assistance. He glared hatefully at Elsa, quickly discerning that she was ready to attack him at the slightest provocation. "I wish our reunion could occur in less…acrimonious circumstances." His voice, weak as it was, dripped with sarcasm and loathing for the son he knew to be fathered by another man.

"Up until this moment, I was hoping our reunion would be never," Hans retorted drily, "but since we're all here, let's have a little fun, and we'll even make it easy on you. Release these people now, and there will be no need for Queen Elsa to freeze you all solid."

Anders smirked and made his way over to Anna, placing both of his hands heavily on her shoulders. Anna shuddered. "Elsa," she got out shakily, "I'm so sorry! I'm sorry we argued, and sorry I got totally distracted, because these idiots would never have been able to kidnap me otherwise." She stepped on Anders' foot as hard as she could, but he merely flinched. Anna was nervous, but strong and as in possession of her sparky sense of humor as ever, Elsa was pleased to notice.

"She's so feisty," Anders remarked with mocking, false admiration, "Just like her sister. Well, Queen Elsa, it seems we are at a crossroads. You can either turn your kingdom over to me, or you can watch your sister die far more quickly than your icy powers can reach me." He pressed a blade close to Anna's throat, and Elsa grimaced, overcome by pure rage. She could feel her powers pressing forward, urging her to unleash them, and kept it together as best she knew how.

"Alright," Elsa blurted, her voice loud with her terrified frustration. "Fine. Lock me up and take my kingdom, but let my sister go."

Beside her, Hans stood in silent support, knowing better than to offer any objection, knowing that this, her only option, ceding her beloved Arendelle to a tyrant, pained her terribly.

"What are you waiting for?" Elsa demanded, stepping forward slightly. "Release Anna right now. You got what you wanted!" As several guards strode forth and clamped irons over Elsa's icy cold hands that tingled with suppressed power, she realized the truth. Anders had no intention of letting Anna go.

"I could," Anders reasoned, stroking his chin in mock contemplation. "And yet, I think I'd prefer to kill her right in front of you as vengeance for how much of my time you've wasted and how annoying you have been. Lars, what do you think? Father?"

Lars shrugged, bored, while the old King rolled his eyes. "If you're going to kill the girl, get on with it, son. We've no time for your precious theatrics."  
"No!" Elsa screamed, dizzy with horror and the awful inability to protect Anna.

Anders held the knife by its handle and flipped it back and forth in his hands in a twisted, playful gesture. Then he grabbed Anna hard by her arm and dragged her up to a standing position, grasping her waist with his other hand so that she couldn't wrestle free. Though clearly gripped by fear, Anna put on her bravest face and continued her futile attempts to evade Anders' hold on her. He winked at Elsa as he said, "bid your sister goodbye."

As Anders' knife descended and Elsa felt the world begin to wobble around her, on the verge of fainting from the shock of the moment, she felt Hans slip past her and then felt the universe snap back into place as he hurled himself at Anders, knocking Anna free. As Anna hit the floor with a loud thud, Elsa's eyes reverted to Hans, who was grappling fiercely with Anders, the two of them throwing punches and rolling in a chaotic, desperate struggle, both of them trying to grab the fallen knife to gain the upper hand.

Though Anna was safe for the moment, with Marit and Nils restrained and her own powers blocked, not to mention the presence of many a guard, Elsa was forced to watch helplessly as, unlike in their last fight, Anders managed to best Hans just for a moment. That tiny bit of time was all Anders needed to grab the knife greedily and plunge it into Hans, piercing his brother just below the shoulder as Elsa screamed again, her eyes spilling over with tears.

In his haste and the awkward positioning of the moment, Anders hadn't stabbed Hans in the right place to incapacitate him right away. Hans took advantage of Anders' smug satisfaction at his obvious pain to come back swinging, grabbing his brother's neck with his other arm and slamming him to the floor. Anders' head crashed into the floor, ensuring that he was not going to be moving again for quite a while.

Amid the confusion of Hans and Anders' fight, Anna had made her way slowly over to Nils and Marit, loosening their bonds. Thus, as Elsa exchanged poisonous glances with the old King and Lars, she was surprised to see them both fall to the floor, blue and purple bursts of misty energy flying forth from Nils and Marit's fingers. The sorceress and sorcerer were free once more, and turned to face the guards with utter contempt all too clear in their faces.

"As a Prince of the Southern Isles," Nils began smoothly, rubbing his wrists and adjusting his glasses, "I command you guards to free Queen Elsa and arrest Princes Anders and Lars for their blatant treason and wretched crimes against our allies in Arendelle."

The guards stood stone still, as if Nils' words meant nothing to them.

"Nils," Marit reminded him, "Anders forced me to spell the guards into total obedience to his every order." She raised her hands once more and muttered a few words in her mystical language of magic.

The guards blinked a few times in confusion. Then the head guard replied, "of course, your majesty," nodding to Nils as the guards placed Anders and Lars in irons. Another one of them unlocked Elsa's chains, and she ran to Hans, her heart pounding viciously, filled with worry. He was wavering in and out of consciousness, and she tore a piece of her gown, pressing it to his wound.

"Stay with me," Elsa whispered, holding onto her true love for dear life. Marit came closer and knelt down, placing a hand above Hans' wound gently, closing her eyes.

"I can't take the wound away entirely," the sorceress explained, "but I can stop the bleeding so he can heal." By the time she removed her hand from Hans, Elsa could pull away the cloth, as his wound no longer seeped blood.

"Thank you, Marit," Elsa said, gripping her friend's hand. Anna approached then and sat beside them on the floor.

"He'll be alright," Anna reassured her sister. She stared at the way Elsa cradled Hans' body, stroking his hair, his face. She'd never seen her sister in love before.

"Nils, you disgustingly weak little ninny," the old King accused. "You've wronged your brothers and me, and now you've cost us another opportunity to finally get our hands on Arendelle and all of its power and resources. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, and when I am able, I will see that you pay for your infamy."

"Words, Father," Nils shot back, entirely unfazed, "Mere words." He beckoned to the guards. "Take my father to his chambers and see that he is kept there under house arrest for the time being. I won't chain you in a dungeon in your weak state of health, Father, but you can't be allowed total freedom after this dreadful affair."

"Your son shows more mercy than you are capable of even understanding, much less appreciating," Marit hissed, her attitude uncharacteristically angry and full of intense resentment. She placed her hand in Nils' in a move that seemed completely natural, and his fingers closed around hers affectionately.

Elsa marveled at this sight, wondering what had happened between Marit and her fiancé Adam, and for that matter, Marit and Nils, since she had last seen them. But before she could seek answers to any of the many questions lingering in her mind, Elsa had to make sure Hans was cared for.

With Marit and Nils' help, Elsa gently guided Hans to a bedroom in the palace, laying him carefully in bed and pulling a blanket over him. He sighed and murmured Elsa's name, and Anna noticed this as well, having accompanied her sister to see if she could be of any help.

"We'll be fine here for tonight," Elsa told her sister once Marit and Nils had left the room. "He needs to rest."  
"And so do you," Anna observed, her eyes still full of concern at Hans and Elsa's closeness.

"He needs me," Elsa clarified, lying beside Hans and making it clear that her mind was made up.

"I know that," Anna acknowledged. "He also saved my life and was ready to die to protect me. I wish it all made sense, but I saw it happen." Her voice was flat, not with confusion or resentment, but with exhausted certainty. "Since you're all set here, I'm going to go find a bed for the night, where I will be sleeping for as long as it takes for the world to start making sense again. Tomorrow, we'll head back to Arendelle, back home. I need Kristoff."

"Hans is coming with us," Elsa informed Anna as her sister made her way out of the room.

"I know," Anna said again, softly, contemplatively, resolved.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Starting anew**

"No," Elsa said simply. This was no common, curt objection, but a steely and royal decree. She crossed her arms in her throne and stared Hans down. He threw up his hands in frustration and began to pace. Since their return to Arendelle, the same argument seemed to recur daily. Elsa did not know how much longer she could win her side, win one more day. The thought terrified her. She released her hands to grip the sides of her throne, feeling the wood turn icy cold with the small unfurling of her powers, just enough to ease her agitation minimally.

"I can't stay here, Elsa," Hans pleaded. He wore a simple shirt of dark blue with black pants, his bright green eyes striking as he ran a hand through his auburn hair. Surely he must know what he did to her, that with each heartbeat, another lost chance to run into his arms cut her like a knife. She didn't want to fight.

"If I stay here, we both know what will happen," Hans continued wearily. Of course, Elsa reasoned: _we won't be able to stay away from each other_. Even keeping their hands to themselves long enough to argue was a challenge.

"The people of Arendelle would never accept me as your consort, an almost-King," Hans worried, with substantially good reason. "So I can never ask for your hand, which is the only thing I want to do." Elsa's heart pounded faster by the moment. "And instead, we'd be forced to carry on in secrecy, a life of subterfuge and deception which you don't deserve. I may deserve to live an outcast from all decent society, but you deserve to be a beloved Queen gazed upon by all from your pedestal."

"Hans, I am not some statue to be praised by the people," Elsa put in, aggravated by his excess of idealization when it came to her. It blinded him to the truth — well, that and his guilt for what he had once done, for what he had almost done. "I'm a living, breathing, woman, and I have my own needs. I need you." She strode forward, her dress of sparkling blue cascading about and behind her like a glittering mist. Elsa took Hans' face between her hands gently and stared into his equally searching eyes. "Marry me," she whispered.

"I should never have let you get this close," Hans murmured, his tone husky with desire, the fight going out of his eyes at last. Before she could draw another breath, his arms were around her, his kiss burning her lips with the only sensation she had longed for since this foolish debate began again.

"And now that you have?" Elsa half-asked, half-moaned as his hands grew more daring on her body and her grip on him tightened.

"I'm afraid I'll never be able to let go," he admitted, short of breath.

"Then don't," Elsa demanded. "And don't be afraid. I want you with me. The people will learn to trust you." She laughed as his answering growl expressed mingled disbelief at her words and increasing excitement at the intensity of their encounter.

"Being a Queen has some benefits," she further argued. "One of them is that I _am_ actually in charge around here."

"Is that so?" Hans murmured playfully. "Why don't we play a game to see who's really in charge?"

Elsa raised an eyebrow at his boldness even as her heart skipped a beat in eager anticipation of any such "game."

"Ahem," Anna cleared her throat unnecessarily loudly, coming awkwardly into the throne room with Kristoff close behind her. They both averted their eyes from Elsa and Hans' display of affection, causing the two of them to break apart slightly. Their arms fell away from one another and they carefully inched apart.

"Hello, Anna," Elsa greeted her sister warmly. Hans stood in stony silence, staring at the floor as though it newly fascinated him.

"Hans," Elsa said through gritted teeth, "You may speak."

"Hello, Anna. Kristoff," Hans got out hurriedly before announcing, "I'll trouble you both no longer with my presence." He made to leave, but Kristoff grabbed him by the arm. Here it was, Elsa surmised, the fistfight they'd all assumed would inevitably occur one day.

Yet instead of attacking Hans, Kristoff shook his former enemy's hand warmly, causing Hans to startle visibly.

"Oh my goodness," Elsa exclaimed in shock, switching so quickly from stress to pleasant surprise that she nearly jumped.

" _Right_?" Anna said, "I did _not_ see that one coming."

"Look," Kristoff explained, "You saved Anna's life. She wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you. What's more, you were willing to die yourself to protect my wife. For that, I owe you my thanks. And I think it's time we all offered you forgiveness for your past."

"I don't deserve your thanks," Hans replied, avoiding Kristoff's friendly eyes and withdrawing his hand in a melancholy manner. "Or your forgiveness."

"Oh, Hans, will you please stop being like this?" Elsa begged.

Hans looked at the three of them one at a time, unable to live up to their encouraging expressions that were free from judgement.

"When I first came here, I would have been happy to kill you all if it meant I could be King. How can I possibly forgive myself, much less accept your forgiveness, for _that_?" Hans squeezed his eyes shut as if his own remorse was a prison from which he could never escape.

"Actually, from what Anna's told me about your family, I'm not surprised you ended up so twisted," Kristoff admitted. "Seriously, are we the first normal people you ever _met_?"

"I'm actually still waiting to meet a normal person," Hans deadpanned, cracking the world's tiniest smile.

Kristoff shrugged. "Touche."

"If even _I_ can see that you've changed, and rise above my pride about being wrong that you could never ever _ever_ change, like ever in a million trillion years, I mean even to the extent that I thought, you know, in some alternate universe, the _other version_ of you would be like totally evil too, then the rest of Arendelle will see it too," Anna surmised, then ran out of breath. "And I _do_ see it, Hans."

"Where were you going to go if you left?" Elsa asked softly, taking Hans' hand. _If you left_ me _,_ her heart nagged her painfully.

"For years I've longed to find my mother," Hans explained, "Ever since my father exiled her for straying from him and producing me, I've blamed myself for her departure, all while feeling the loss of her so deeply. To alleviate my guilt for her exile and bring her back somehow, I was willing to do anything in the world to aggrandize myself. I didn't understand the cost of committing cruel deeds to innocent bystanders just to get what I wanted. And I loved the taste of power as well, so that made it even easier. Now that I see things for what they truly are, I know that I must find her, the _right_ way."

"Then let's find her," Kristoff said, as if it were the simplest, most obvious idea that could be.

"Yes," Anna said, taking Elsa's hand in solidarity. "We'll go with you."

Hans' eyes flittered from his love, to her sister and her husband, touched and surprised beyond measure.

"A new era has begun," Elsa explained, applying eloquent words to the situation with a skill that came to her as naturally as breathing. "Once divided, now we are a family. Hans, you and I will be together. We will be married. Arendelle will see and understand the change in you. But first, we will find your mother and bring her back here with us."

Discarding the final remnants of his resistance, Hans fell helplessly into Elsa's arms and felt the last of his self-hatred fall away simultaneously.


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue: Standing in the light of day**

All proceeded just as Elsa had anticipated. Her clearness of vision and the purity of her fierce love for Hans had made the events that followed as simple and right as they ever should have been. Hans found in himself a new man, one unfettered by the miseries of his childhood and the horrific guilt of his misspent youth. He could be more, he could be better, he could find the goodness in his heart and draw upon it to become a real hero. Elsa was his true north, his inspiration and light, forever.

The journey to find Hans' mother, Annalise, was long and arduous, but at last, with the help of the newlywed Nils and Marit, the magical barrier concealing the Queen of the Southern Isles was disintegrated. Annalise's happiness at being reunited with her children was profound, and when she returned with them to Arendelle, her regality and sweet nature endeared her at once to the people. They were slowly learning to accept and trust Elsa's chosen love, and to put their faith in the concept of a redemption they had never dreamed as possible…and there had been a time when Hans himself believed it equally as impossible.

Nils and Marit, who had fallen in love somewhere amidst all the adventure and peril, had been indescribably pained to tell poor Adam of this development. After struggling to find a way to make a difficult situation somehow possible, the three of them had remained friends, and taken up their places in the Southern Isles, where Nina was ever grateful of their faithful council and the magical assistance of her court witch and wizard.

By the time Hans and Elsa were married in a beautifully simple ceremony with only their closest family and friends in attendance, they knew their people would accept their union with open minds and hearts. The hope for the future that infused Arendelle as a whole began with and was reflected by the full, eager, brave heart of its Queen.

And they all lived happily ever after.


End file.
